Dragons of Twilight
by LuceoNonUro
Summary: Trying to find a way to bring Sirius back, the Trio returns to the Department of Mysteries. When Severus arrives there, all he finds are some badly burned Death Eaters and a small red dragon with emerald eyes and a familiar scar... Harry? !Slash HPSS!
1. A Letter to Sirius

  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

A/N: 

Just this once: 

*The Harry Potter Series belongs to JK Rowling.*

*All characters in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.*

Now let's get started!

  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 01: A Letter to Sirius

  
  


  
  


_Dear Sirius._

  
  


_I hope this letter will make it to you somehow._

_I know, way too much time has passed by now, but it has taken us a while to figure out what to do._

_I think it will be best if I just give you a short summary of what has happened since you went through the Veil._

  
  


_Voldemort was at the Department of Mysteries and tried to get hold of the Prophecy. He send me a vision of him holding you captive to lure me there so that I could retrieve it for him. As I had been neglecting my training in Occlumency, a mistake I bitterly regret now, I believed what I saw and went there. You know some of what happened then. We could keep the Prophecy from him, but it was destroyed in the process. After that, he tried to kill me once again, but Professor Dumbledore stopped him. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville were wounded during the fights, but thank Merlin they recovered rather quickly. Neville's nose is slightly crooked now and the poor chap got teased quite a bit about how it looked like Snape's._

_After I became very angry and wrecked part of his office, Professor Dumbledore decided it was finally the right time to tell me about some things. I can't write down everything here since I don't know who might read this, but it seems that it all comes down to the Prophecy saying that a child born at the end of July whose parents had defied the Dark Lord three times will have to fight Voldemort, and one of them will live while the other dies. Only I and Neville, of all people, fit this description. It seems Snake-Face somehow liked me better for an archenemy, though by now I think it's entirely possible that the child of the Prophecy is in reality Neville. He has changed much over the year and has grown into one fine Gryffindor. Well, we'll see who will be the lucky guy that eventually gets to blast Voldemort into oblivion._

_Oh my, I just noticed I used Snake-Face's name once again. Bad me. Ron would surely give me The Look now, if he'd know. He has taken to doing that since the start of term, since Mione has finally managed to convince him that 'calling the Dark Lord by his name is an important part of defying him'. Well, needless to mention that she caused quite an uproar with that and the Slytherins are still glaring daggers at her whenever they see her. But as she set a new record with her OWL results and is the most obvious candidate for the Head Girl position, the slimy little gits didn't have the nerve to go any further than shooting her dirty looks. Actually, she already has her badge. She told me yesterday that in regard to the ...unusual circumstances, Professor Dumbledore wanted to inform them of their new position personally rather than per mail._

_Unusual circumstances, my ass. Something is wrong, I can feel it with every fiber of my body. But then, something is always wrong, isn't it? What is it with life that when you think it really can't get worse now, it always seems to find a way to show you otherwise?_

_Things have definitely not gotten much better since the disaster of Fifth Year._

_Sorry about the whining. I guess it was a hard time for us all._

_We all missed you dearly, especially Remus, but he tends to keep his worries to himself, doesn't he? However, we came to a silent understanding over the summer and he agreed to act as a temporary substitute for you as my godfather, but neither he nor I consider it permanent and we are still waiting for you to come back as soon as possible._

_I had to stay at the Dursleys' for the obligatory month, but this time, I was kept informed better, encoded letters told me of Neville's, Ron's, Ginny's and Mione's recovery and transfer to the HQ. The Dursleys left me mostly alone, thanks to the threat of my 'freakish friends' (Moody gave them a mouthful when they came to get me from King's Cross). Nevertheless the month seemed endless to me, until my escort arrived at last._

_After I was done with my wallowing in self-pity, and had come over my guilt and grief, I went in denial and Ron, Mione and I looked up everything we could about the Veil. Which was pretty much nothing. At least, as long as we stuck to the students' side of the library. Fortunately, everyone had far too much on their mind to take an interest in what we were reading up in the your parents' library, and where I might have had problems imagining your family as Dark Wizards, their choice of books quickly healed me from that. In the dark side of the shelves, we finally found some clues that helped us along. As well as a few other useful spells and potions. Ginny helped us a great deal, but it was Neville who kept us going on. He's matured a lot, and the lion in him surfaces more and more with every passing day._

_Our return to Hogwarts was a grim one. Too much had happened that last term. _

_There were a few good things though, to provide us with enough hope to keep going on._

_Professor Dumbledore is Headmaster again and has been restored to all of his titles and privileges. _

_Hagrid is back as well and seems to have managed to bring some new monsters along. _

_Firenze and Trelawney have divided Divination between them, and teach the classes together. Trelawney is much easier to be around now, and even manages to refrain from predicting my untimely death every time she sees me. Sometimes I think I miss it... Just kidding, I can live without it quite well, thank you very much._

_Remus has come back with us as the new DADA teacher, and I'm still unsure whether that was a good thing because he doesn't have to stay at the HQ any more and has something to keep him occupied or if Hogwarts reminds him too much of what he has lost. He's the last of the Marauders now, until you come back, save for Wormtail who doesn't count. We haven't told him of our research yet, neither concerning the Veil nor of some of the other things we found. Suffice to say that with the notes you and Dad took and Mione's genius, we are well on our way to accomplish what took you and the others several years. We haven't found out what our forms will be yet, we just know that Mione's has feathers, Ginny's, Neville's and Ron's fur and mine scales. Urgh, I just hope I won't end up as a snake... . _

_Voldemort has kept a low profile over the year, I had not even one vision or other episode. Other than getting the rest of his followers out of Azkaban, he remained quiet. Professor Dumbledore took it upon himself to teach me Occlumency during the summer holidays, so that I had a solid base when Snape resumed the lessons. Our animosity seems to have reached new heights, as I somehow managed to scrape a sufficient grade to get into his NEWT potions class. Not that I enjoyed it, on the contrary, if I ever get hold of the brainless idiot who decided that a potions NEWT is necessary to become an Auror, I'll make him severely regret it. So thanks to some sadistic Ministry official, I have to see Snape much more often then I'd like to. By now, we got into a routine, he's nastier to me than ever, sometimes downright mean, and I ignore his baits and try to keep a rein on my temper. Somehow it seems to work. He doesn't look well. Snape, I mean. I guess his 'colleagues' give him a hard time. But that's none of my business._

_Malfoy is back to his usual unpleasant self, now that his father is free again, but he, too, doesn't look good. But again, that's none of my business._

_Mione somehow managed to acquire a pass for the Restricted Section, so that we don't have to use the cloak anymore. We asked her how she did it and she just smiled that scary smile of hers and said she'd tell us another time. We didn't ask her again. I guess I don't really want to know._

_We continued our research about the Veil and we are absolutely certain that we can bring you back. Well, as certain as we can be, regarding the fact that very little is known about it. According to what we found, it is a Door into some kind of Realm. Mione found a really ancient book where it was referred to as the 'Archway To The In Between'. Legends tell of a place apart from space and time where the souls that have unsolved affairs left, but didn't stay on Earth as ghosts, exist until an other fulfills their purposes in their stead. I had to think of the Priori Incantatem then. Could it be that those were really the souls of my parents I saw? Might the spell have called them from the Realm behind the Veil and allowed them to take on form for a short time? We will continue to look deeper into it when we're back at the HQ. Ron is already persuading his father to get us the permission to return to the Department of Mysteries, officially to say goodbye, but in fact to see if we can contact the Voices behind the Veil. I better don't write too much of it down as it is a very delicate matter._

  
  


_I think that was the most important in a nutshell._

_Exams were two weeks ago, and together we managed to get even better grades than last year. What a term without any death-threats can do to academic skills... The Leaving Feast is the day after tomorrow, and Gryffindor is about to win the cup once more. _

_I hope that the month at the Dursleys will pass quickly and that we will be able to bring you back and complete our ...other task before Voldemort goes after me again._

  
  


_Now all I have left to say is that I am very, very sorry for what has happened. I know that it is because of my short-sighted, hot-headed actions that you are stuck behind the Veil. There are no words to tell you how much I regret what I have done. But I will get you out of there and then I'll make it up to you, I promise._

_I miss you. _

_And I love you._

  
  


_Hope to see you soon,_

_Harry_

  
  


_PS: If Mum and Dad are there with you, please tell them I love them, too, and I will try my best to make the three of you proud of me._

  
  


  
  


*Oh, Harry. I love you, too! I wish I could be there for you now. But I'll be waiting for you. I know you'll make it!*

  
  


  
  


*****

  
  


"Well, well," the Dark Lord practically purrs, "so Harry Potter is going to return to the Department of Mysteries with his two loyal sidekicks on Friday? What a perfect opportunity to get rid of him once and for all."

"What are your orders, my Lord?" the masked Death Eater kneeling in front of his throne-like armchair asks meekly.

"See to it that the way into the Ministry is free and that no one will disturb us. The rest shall be over soon with the right spells," his master replies, a malicious smile on his pale face.

The Death Eater shifts nervously before he dares to demand humbly: "My Lord, please forgive me my curiosity, but how do you plan to dispose of the boy? He has proved to be hard to kill several times already."

Voldemort's eyes glow brighter for a moment, and the black-clad figure before him stiffens in anticipation of punishment. But the Dark Lord just continues to smile and otherwise remains motionless.

"You have done well, my servant, and for that you shall get an answer to your question. I will not use Avada Kedavra on Potter. The risk of him reflecting it again is too great, though my hatred should now be strong enough to overcome his mother's protection, even without the use of his blood for my return. But there is something that is far more powerful than those weak emotions of love or even hate." His smile gets broader as he pauses briefly.

"Time, my faithful Death Eater," he continues, "Time will succeed where the Killing Curse failed. For even Harry Potter is powerless against aging."

His servant gasps in surprise. "So you will use the Aging Curse on him? My Lord, that's ingenious!"

The Dark Lord half-closes his eyes in satisfaction. 

"I know. This time, there will be no escape for the boy. Even Dumbledore won't be able to help him. Next Friday afternoon, Harry Potter will die."

And his high, cold laughter rings through the darkness.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~

  
  


A/N:

Just a very persistent plot-bunny that has nagged at me for some time now.

I hope I got the events at the end of Fifth Year right, it has been a while since I read OotP and a friend has my copy at the moment.

This will eventually be SS/HP-Slash, but not until later chapters. They'll need to get over their differences and ...certain difficulties that are going to occur in the next chapters first. Sorry, no '_Why didn't I realize that he has the most wonderful eyes and I'm madly in love with him?' _here. Plus, if you want some scenes of intimate encounters, I'll need one of you to compose something for me, as I have never written erotic scenes before and don't want to go and copy something I read somewhere. 

Also, a beta-reader would be most welcome, as are any suggestions and constructive criticism.

Flames concerning the sexuality of the main characters will be used to amuse me and my friends by their silliness. After all, I don't force anyone to read this story and I gave a fair warning in the summary.

I'll try and update this soon, but I'm busy at university and can't tell when that will be. If you leave me your email address I can mail you, though.

  
  


Next Chapter: At the Department of Mysteries...

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  


  
  



	2. At the Department of Mysteries

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 02: At the Department of Mysteries

  
  


  
  


'Something is most definitely wrong.' 

  
  


Severus Snape sighs in annoyance and pinches the bridge of his nose. The feeling of impending doom has built steadily during the last few days and is now hanging over him like a storm cloud. He wonders for a moment if it might have something to do with Potter again. Possible, but unlikely, for he knows that Albus' Golden Boy was brought to the Headquarters at the beginning of the week and is thus under constant supervision. 

  
  


'As if that had ever prevented him from stumbling, no, rushing into the nearest dangerous situation on his way...'

  
  


Severus snorts. Whatever others may think, he is absolutely certain that behind that modest-hero-facade the boy presents to the world he is just as bad as his father, always craving for attention and praise, always seeking to stand in the spotlight, arrogant and sure of himself. Granted, the events in the Department of Mysteries seem to have gotten through that thick skull of his and finally dimmed his recklessness somewhat over his sixth year, but that the boy will get into trouble before soon is as sure for the Head of Slytherin as the fact that the sun will rise in the morning.

  
  


'I just hope that Albus won't expect me to save Potter's sorry little hide this time. I have already enough to keep me occupied, thank you very much!'

  
  


The Dark Lord had changed his tactics after the disaster at the Ministry of Magic. He lay low and planned in his secret hiding-hole, trying to make Dumbledore look like a hysterical, old senile and Fudge like a fool for finally confirming the rumors of Voldemort's return. And the worst is that now, with no word whatsoever of any Death Eater attacks or other signs of the Dark Lord for over one year, people are starting to believe him.

  
  


He sighs again and flops gracefully down onto his favorite armchair. Voldemort has started to recruit again, subtly, discreetly, ambitious young witches and wizards in positions that might help him greatly later. The mood is tense in the Order, and Tonks and Shacklebolt are wondering how much longer they will be able to trust their fellow Aurors. Severus for his part thinks that they have already stopped doing that when they started to question their colleagues' loyalty. But he kept his opinion to himself. He has enough to worry about, as the Dark Lord still hasn't forgiven him for his absence on that first fateful meeting on the graveyard. Since the capture of Lucius and the others, the old Snake has kept them strictly on a need-to-know-basis, lest they reveal parts of his plan under the influence of Veritaserum, and he has aggravated the punishments for failing him, becoming rather ...creative due to his amount of free time.

The Potions Master shudders inwardly. The last year has been hell. Every Death Eater tried to get back into the Dark Lord's good graces, especially Bellatrix Lestrange, and that woman surpasses even Voldemort himself in her cold blood, cruelty and unscrupulousness. The battle for power in the Death Eaters' ranks was a harsh one, and is still going on. Severus wonders how much longer he will last. A few of the meetings were a near miss for him and it has been getting worse lately. 

  
  


'Maybe I'm missing Potter. It's kind of relaxing to make the little jerk fight for control over his temper.'

He chuckles maliciously.

'Maybe I'll go and visit the Headquarters tomorrow, release a bit of tension and such...'

  
  


The beginning sneer on his face turns into a grimace, when a sharp jolt of pain in his arm tells him that his quiet Friday evening with the ancient potions tome he found yesterday in Diagon Alley and a glass of old Firewhiskey has just been canceled.

Growling, he rises and tosses a pinch of silver powder into the fire, the sign for Albus that he is gone, before he puts his shrunken attire into an inner pocket of his robe and leaves the dungeons to head to the edge of the Anti-Apparating Wards.

  
  


'Here I go,' he thinks sourly. 'Hopefully I'll come back once again this time.'

  
  


o^o^o^o^o^o^o^o

  
  


Masked and clad into his black Death Eater robes, Severus Snape stumbles and steadies himself against a wall.

  
  


'Merlin, I hate traveling by Portkey,' he thinks, disgusted by the feeling of being sucked into a void and spit out again. "I wonder where it is that we can't apparate to.'

  
  


His onyx eyes widen as he recognizes his surroundings.

  
  


'The Ministry of Magic! What the hell...?!'

  
  


Swallowing the feeling of dread that has risen in his throat, he slowly follows the corridor the Portkey has taken him to, wand at the ready. 

Something is wrong here, very wrong. He should have known already when the Dark Mark took him to a clearing where a Death Eater novice handed him the small hourglass that brought him here. Something is going on and he doesn't know whether he really wants to find out what it might be.

Analyzing his position, Severus realizes he is in the Department of Mysteries, on his way to the Chamber of Death. His heartbeat quickens, and a thin layer of sweat begins to spread on his forehead. As he tries to calm himself, he notices that the sweating is not caused by anxiousness, but heat.

  
  


'Damn, why is it so hot here?'

  
  


The nearer he gets to the entrance of the chamber, the warmer and stuffier the air becomes. Preparing himself for the worst, he takes a deep breath and steps into the room.

Only to stop paralyzed by shock upon the sight that greets him.

  
  


The Chamber is a disaster.

  
  


Everything is burned and blackened. 

Some stones in the walls are still glowing faintly with heat. 

The air is hot and sears through his lungs, and the sickening smell of burnt flesh clings to it. 

Three charred bodies lie on the floor, the half-molten axe next to one of them implying that it is Walden Macnair, since no other Death Eater would carry such a weapon with him. The other two offer no clue to their identity.

Smoke is rising faintly from piles of ashes, embers are still glowing.

  
  


Severus is horrified by the sheer amount of devastation that took place in the room. 

  
  


Whatever has happened here must have involved one hell of a fire. But what kind of fire can be such deadly and strikes so quickly that a Death Eater like Macnair was unable to protect himself with a spell or flee in time?

Stepping farther into the room, the dark-haired Slytherin discovers a large spot that has been spared from the fire and is unmarred. Constantly alert, though a quick glance around told him that he seems to be the only living person present, he moves towards it and examines it carefully. It is approximately five or six feet in diameter, an irregularly formed circle, whose floor is stained with blood. A small trail of it leaves the spot at one side and looking up, he sees the second thing that remained untouched by the flames: the Archway with the Veil. The trail of blood leads straight into its direction and Severus follows it cautiously, clutching his wand tighter as he reflects briefly what kind of creature could leave such strange tracks.

  
  


His question is answered by a faint movement in front of the Veil, and snarling he raises his wand and leaps forward, poised to strike.

A pitiful whimper comes from his opponent, and a small, trembling figure tries to cringe away from his towering form.

Still wary, the Potions Master draws nearer and looks down at the creature.

  
  


Cowering about one yard away from the Archway is a small, pale rusty-red and golden dragon, trying desperately to hide behind its large wings.

  
  


It is covered with soot, which had hidden it from view before, and smeared with blood.

Its own blood, the Slytherin realizes as he bends down and the dragon struggles wearily to get away from him, but it is too weak.

Reaching out to the shaking creature, he lays his hand on the fragile neck in case it tries and turns around to breath its fire at him, but the dragon is so weakened that it can't move on its own. It whimpers again when the wizard's hand touches it, and its faint pulse races under his fingers. The smooth scales are strangely cold in the heat of the room, as if life was slowly leaking out of the small body.

  
  


'That's a bad sign.'

  
  


He has no idea how he knows that since he has never been particularly interested in dragons, aside of potions ingredients, that is.

But his instincts tell him that this little dragon is something special and might well be the key to what happened today, and that it will die if he doesn't help it.

Sighing, he crouches down beside it, and takes a gentle hold of the copper-coloured wings with the golden undersides. The dragon moans in pain, and Severus points his wand at the broken left upper wing-bone and mends it, before he examines the rest of the wounded creature. It doesn't look good. The broken limbs and ribs he can mend provisionally, but the wounds on its abdomen indicate internal bleedings and need to be taken care of by a professional.

Pondering his alternatives briefly, he decides on the only real one: To take the dragon to Hogwarts.

  
  


'Hagrid can look after it. He will without doubt be overjoyed to do so.'

  
  


Determined, he takes a small vial out of one of his many pockets, pries the slender jaws apart gently and softly massages the pale golden throat to make the little dragon swallow. A few moments later, the Pain-Numbing Potion has taken effect and he dares to lift his small patient into his arms, but with its pain dulled, the dragon panics at being picked up and struggles to escape. 

Caught off balance, Severus has no choice but to let the creature down as gently as he manages, and curses colourfully as it scrambles away to hide behind the Archway.

  
  


Before he can follow it, however, the dragon makes a terrified sound and backs away from the backside of the Archway as fast as it can, moaning in distress, until it knocks into the legs of the Potions Master. With a pitiful whine, it puts its front claws on his lower leg, and hides under his robes like a child.

Freeing his leg gently, the Slytherin rises his wand again and peers around the Archway.

  
  


Another Death Eater is lying there, severely burned, but not as bad as the others due to the shelter the Archway provided.

All of a sudden, the man breaks into a coughing fit, and makes Severus realize that he is still alive.

In a swift motion the dark-haired wizard is at his side and knees down to help him.

The rest of his Numbing Potion and a vial of a strong healing potion that he didn't dare give to the dragon because it is explicitly for humans go down the poor git's throat and he clears up enough to look at the Slytherin with glassy eyes.

  
  


"Snape..." he croaks. "Thank Merlin.... "

"Rookwood," Severus says urgently, "what the hell happened here?"

The burnt man's lips twitch at his words.

"Hell... All hell ...broke loose," he mutters. "Potter and ...his friends were ...here today."

His breathing becomes shallower, and the Potions Master knows he will slip back into delirium soon.

"Try to hang on, Rookwood and tell me. I need to know what ...went wrong."

The other man coughs weakly.

"The Dark Lord... Ambush... Fight... Got them... But then.... out of nowhere... the dragon... the fire..."

Rookwood draws a deep, rattling breath and smiles.

"But... we got him ...in the end, ...Snape. There is no way ...Potter could have survived ...this."

  
  


And with the triumphant smile still on his face, the Death Eater's eyes drift shut and he loses consciousness again.

Severus rises and remains motionless for a moment, considering what he should do about Rookwood when the faint sound of distant footsteps leaks into the room.

  
  


Knowing that the other man will be tended to in a short while, he turns back to gather the dragon up, only to find it cowering behind him. His sudden movement startles the creature, and it backs away in fear. Sighing once more, the black-clad wizard knees down again, and drops his voice to the seductive, silken tones he saves for special purposes. The little dragon stops its frantic movements, half-closes its eyes and listens in rapt attention. Severus moves towards it, and soothed by the dark voice, the small golden and rust-coloured creature meets him halfway and allows him to cradle it in his arms. Though it is about the size of a large dog, it is strangely light-weight and he suspects that it is malnourished as well.

  
  


When the Potions Master fishes for the Emergency Portkey in his pocket with his left while steadying his burden with his right, the little dragon lifts its head shyly and for the first time, he can look directly into its eyes.

  
  


Its emerald eyes.

  
  


'No, that's impossible...'

  
  


His gaze flickers to the red and golden forehead, and sure enough a discreet zig-zagging line is embedded into the scales there.

Severus groans, though of relief or exasperation he couldn't tell.

  
  


"Potter! I should have known it's you again," is all he gets out before his searching fingers touch the Portkey and the world vanishes into a whirl of colours.

  
  


O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O

  
  


A/N:

Thanks for the reviews!!!

  
  


I never expected the first chapter to get such a positive feedback!

You see me flattered... *smiles happily*

  
  


A nicely polished Gold Star goes to **Fallen Dragon** for the very first review. *hands over shiny star*

Also, an extra flashy Shooting Star goes to **Cassa-Andra** for her kind offer of betaing this story. *sends sparkling shooting star on its way*

Maybe I'll come back to it later, but for now a friend at university has volunteered to proofread my chapters.

Chapter one and two are being reworked at the moment, I'll replace the current versions as soon as I get them back.

  
  


Any questions or comments to the story so far?

Feel free to review! *hint*

Next chapter: Arrival in Hogwarts...

  
  


Carpe Diem!

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  


  
  



	3. Arrival in Hogwarts

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 03: Arrival in Hogwarts 

  
  


The momentum of the Portkey sends Severus flat on his ass, but as it is designed for the case that he is severely wounded or otherwise incapable of apparating, it lands them on a huge bed in a special room of the Infirmary, thus sparing him the pain and embarrassment of picking himself off the floor.

  
  


The by now almost familiar whimper makes him look down at the dragon, no, Potter. He is trembling violently again and squashed flat against his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. The Slytherin snorts.

"You can stop your pathetic show now, Potter," he says coldly. "We are back in Hogwarts and you are safe now, so kindly get a grip on yourself, let go off my clothes and change back into your usual annoying self."

  
  


To his dismay, Potter gives no sign of having heard or understood him, but before he has a chance to vocalize his anger, the door swings open and Poppy comes rushing in, alerted by the surveillance charms on the room. The dragon makes a mewling sound of fear, and tries to hide deeper in the Potions Master's robes, but his actions go unnoticed by the Nurse as she approaches the only patient she has seen more often in her Infirmary than Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and Remus Lupin together.

  
  


"Severus! Albus told me you were gone. How bad is it this time?" she asks with a concerned expression.

The dark-haired wizard growls while trying to prevent the dragon from crawling further under his teacher's robes.

"It seems that this once my being late has turned out advantageous for me," he replies. "This time, it's not I who is in need of your talents. "

Poppy frowns slightly. "Not you? Who then? I don't see anybody else in this room."

  
  


Severus sighs in annoyance, still attempting to get the little dragon away from him. If he wasn't so badly injured, he could just grip him by the neck and drop him onto the bed...

  
  


"You would, if he'd finally let go off my robes."

  
  


The Nurse's eyes drop to the bulge on his chest and widen at what she sees.

  
  


"A dragon?! Really, Severus, your idea of a joke is beyond me sometimes. Why didn't you bring it to Hagrid?"

"Because I have reason to believe that it's Potter," he growls.

"Harry?" she gasps. "But how...? What happened?"

"If Potter would eventually stop acting like the spoiled child he is and start to behave like the young adult he is supposed to be, he could tell us," he snaps.

  
  


Still staring at the trembling creature, Poppy swallows and does what she is trained to: She switches back into Nurse mode.

  
  


"Be that as it may, you said he has been injured?" At his nod she continues: "Well, then let me have a look at him."

"Easier said than done," he grumbles, but shrugs out of his Death Eater robes, which reveals most of the small dragon's body.

  
  


The rust-coloured creature whimpers at the loss of warmth and shelter, and rises his head out of Severus' teacher's robes to look for the cause of it. Upon seeing the Nurse with her wand pointed at him, he squeals in terror, pushes under the Slytherin's robes and claws into his shirt, whining in fear.

  
  


"Ouch! Potter, that's enough! Stop struggling and get off of me this instant! Your antics will aggravate your internal wounds if you go on like this!" he hisses.

  
  


A pain-filled moan implies that the Numbing Potion has worn of in the meantime and what Severus had just predicted is most likely already the case.

Realizing that it might be her proximity that distresses the small dragon so much, Poppy steps back despite her growing concern.

  
  


"Internal wounds? Sweet Morgana, Severus, he might bleed to death if he keeps struggling like that!"

  
  


The Potions Master is just about to make a sharp retort, when another, gentle voice cuts in.

  
  


"Then I suggest we give Severus a bit more room, and he tries to calm his little friend down," Albus Dumbledore advises soothingly.

"He is most certainly not my friend," Severus snaps. "All I want is to get him off me so that I can finally return to my dungeons!"

"Severus, please. In such a state of panic as he is, the dragon reacts on pure instinct and that is flee and hide. The sooner he relaxes, the sooner he might let go off you. Now why don't you try and comfort the poor creature while you tell us what happened at the Ministry?"

  
  


Albus looks at the younger wizard with warm kindness, and the Slytherin snarls in annoyance, but can already feel the anger and the tension start to leave him.

  
  


"You want to know what happened, Albus? Potter happened, that is what!" he growls. "Your Golden Boy was at the Department of Mysteries this afternoon and almost succeeded in getting himself killed yet again!"

  
  


Taking a deep breath, he launches into a report of what he saw.

While filling the other two in on the events of the last hour, he unconsciously steadies the dragon with one arm, raises the other and starts to rub the scaled back in a soothing manner. The lithe figure flinches at his touch at first, and Severus can feel the small heart racing, but then he sighs and stops his struggles. Slowly, the trembling lessens until it finally subsides, and the little body relaxes under his hands. His fingers somehow find their way to the long neck and stroke the smooth crest, making the dragon melt into his arms. He tucks his head under the Slytherin's chin, closes his eyes and winds his tail loosely around one of the wizard's upper legs.

Albus observes the process with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

  
  


"It seems he has calmed down at last. Poppy, do you think you could check on him while he stays in Severus arms?"

The Nurse nods. "It's a bit more difficult, but practicable. We examine small children on their mother's arm that way quite often." 

To Severus, she adds: "Stay still and relax, and try to make sure he does the same."

  
  


The Slytherin nods tiredly, and murmurs soft nonsense in his dark voice to keep the dragon's focus on himself, and for the second time, it works.

Several spells later, Poppy sighs and steps back again.

  
  


"Numerous fractures, bruised kidneys and a ruptured spleen, plus the after-effects of several curses. You did a good job on the broken bones, Severus. You would have made a fine Medi-wizard."

She gives him a small, warm smile before she continues.

"I mended the bones and the spleen, and took some of the pressure off the kidneys. Now I'm going to give him some potions for the injuries, the pain and to make him sleep. He will need a Nutrient Potion, too, for he is obviously malnourished. What do you suggest we use, Severus?"

  
  


They discuss their possible options briefly, before they settle on a selection of five potions. 

Prodding the dragon softly to wake him from the dozing state he has fallen into, Severus gently encourages him to take the potions, and makes sure he swallows them. Another sigh tells him when the concoctions take effect and the small creature goes limp in his arms as the Dreamless Sleep kicks in. Heaving a sigh of his own, the Slytherin gently lays the prone figure down on the bed, feeling strangely bereft without the warm, living body at his chest. He quickly squashes the thought, though, and turns back to Albus who had remained in the background the whole time and just now comes to the bed and sits down next to his younger colleague. Poppy, satisfied that her patient will now get the rest he needs, excuses herself with the remark that she has an injured member of the Order to see to and leaves the room.

  
  


"And what now, Albus?" 

"Now, we watch over the little one's rest and try to reconstruct what happened today," the old wizard replies calmly.

Severus scowls slightly. "We already know what happened. Potter and his friends went to the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort got wind of it and was waiting there for him. A battle ensured, Potter changed into his Animagus form and fried the room. Three Death Eaters died in the flames and one was severely burned. What else should there be?"

  
  


The Headmaster looks thoughtful down on the sleeping dragon, and reaches over to trace the lightening bolt scar on his forehead, before trailing his fingers down the golden crest and coming to rest on the bronze back between the coppery, bat-like wings. The creature stirs uneasily, but doesn't wake, and Albus takes his hand back when he sees his discomfort.

  
  


"There are several facts that don't fit in with this explanation. Where are Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, for example?"

His Potions Master frowns. "The burned corpses were too large to belong to them, they were most probably Death Eaters. Perhaps the Dark Lord has taken them hostage?"

Albus strokes his beard absent-mindedly. "We will have to check that. But somehow I doubt it. They would have needed preset Portkeys to do that, and the fire erupted so fast that four of them weren't even able to get out in time. But there are other inconsistencies."

  
  


Again, he gives the little dragon a pondering look.

  
  


"You know, Severus, that an Animagus can turn into the form of the animal that represents him best at will. But a dragon isn't an animal, it is a mythical creature. In the last thousand years there has been no reported case of an Animagus taking on a form that was not that of a mundane animal. 

Furthermore, I may not be an expert on dragon breeds, but I have never seen one like this before. The built, the colouring, I've never heard of a type of dragon that looks like him. 

And there's something else."

  
  


He looks up at the younger wizard, and cerulean eyes meet onyx.

  
  


"This dragon is very young, not more that a child. If I'm correct in my assessment, his current age equals that of a four or five years old human."

  
  


Severus draws a deep breath at the revelations, and lets his gaze drop at the sleeping figure between them. The dragon makes a soft, mewling sound in his sleep, and unconsciously scuttles closer to the Slytherin.

  
  


"So what do you think happened at the Department of Mysteries, Albus? Surely you have something in mind?"

"I have some ideas about what might have taken place, but we will have to wait for Mr Rookwood to recover before we get any affirmations.

I think that Tom planned his ambush better than we thought, so good, in fact, that there was no chance of escape for Harry and his friends. I suppose he tortured them, by magic and otherwise. Faced with a slow, painful death, I fear they took the only way out they could think of: They went through the Veil.

Harry must either have distracted the Death Eaters to buy them time or was prevented from following them by someone. Cornered and with no hope left, his survival will took over and he transformed into the dragon."

"That doesn't explain his unusual form and his young age," the dark-haired wizard replies.

  
  


Albus smiles mildly. 

  
  


"I'm not omniscient, my dear boy, as you well know. We still have much to inquire. I will talk to Minerva about the Animagus affair. If I remember correctly, there is a spell that can force an Animagus back into his human form, but I think we'd better wait with that until his condition has stabilized further.

In addition, I will ask Charlie Weasley to send me informations about dragon breeds that fit his appearance. As a member of the Order, he will know how to be discreet about it.

If Voldemort calls you, you will tell him that the dragon died of his wounds and that there were no survivors. I will see to it that St. Mungo's tells the Ministry the same about Mr Rookwood and keeps his continued survival a secret.

Until we have figured this out and have Harry returned to his normal self, this will stay between Poppy, Minerva, you and me. The less people that know about him, the better. You might even think about an other name for him."

"Me?" Severus narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Why should I think about a new name for Potter?"

"Because he trusts you. He needs someone to rely on right now. We have no idea what he has been through, and you have seen how badly he reacted to Poppy's and my presence. It will only be temporary, until he is human again and fully recovered. Please, Severus. This isn't the adolescent student you know, but a lonely, frightened child. He needs someone to protect him and to take care of him."

"And to keep him out of trouble, that's what you mean, isn't it?" Severus growls, but he can feel exhaustion catch up with him, now that the adrenaline the stress and tension had provided him with has worn off, and he doesn't have the energy for a discussion with the clever old coot. Albus gets his will in the end most of the time anyways, so he might as well spare himself the effort. "Oh, well, I'll do it, but only as long as it is absolutely necessary. And I will most certainly not cuddle him, do you understand me?"

  
  


The silver-haired wizard smiles knowingly.

  
  


"Perfectly. Who knows, perhaps we will find a way to restore him to his former self tomorrow, and he won't need you any longer."

The Potions Master snorts. 'Somehow I doubt that.'

"Well, it has been a long day, and you look like you could use some rest as well. Would you mind staying here for the night?"

Severus rolls his eyes. "Yes, I would, but before you ask, yes, I will stay. Is there anything else?"

  
  


Albus's gaze falls back on the dragon, and to Severus' dismay, he realizes that his hands have developed a mind of their own again and are currently caressing the dragon's slender neck once more, who in turn has somehow managed to wind his coppery and golden body around the wizard with his tail curling loosely around his right leg again and his scaled head resting in the Potions Master's lap.

  
  


"No, Severus," the old wizard tells the Head of Slytherin with a sly smile, "I believe that was all. A goodnight to you, my dear boy."

  
  


Without waiting to decipher the younger man's muttered answer, the Headmaster turns and leaves the room, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes.

'Maybe this works out to the best for us all.'

  
  


Back in the room, Severus sighs in annoyance and calls a House-Elf to get him his sleeping attire.

After a last, pondering look, he gently disentangles himself from the dragon, and changes into the black silk pajamas that the Elf brought him. Sliding under the blankets, he can feel the dragon snuggling into his side, and sighs again.

'In the same bed with a Potter,' he thinks with a grimace, 'I have really sunken low.'

  
  


Oblivious to his thoughts, the dragon sighs in his sleep and tries to curl around the tall Slytherin again. Torn between indignation and amusement, the dark-haired wizard puts an end to the attempt, but allows the small creature to curl up beside him.

  
  


'He really does look like a child. And he seemed pretty subdued today. Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought.'

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a small smile without his notice.

'At least he doesn't snore.'

  
  


Settling his head down on the pillow, he watches his hand once again finding its way to the warm, smooth bronze back while he slowly drifts of into slumber, but he is way too tired to question it.

  
  


'Aenëus,' is the last coherent thought on his mind before sleep finally claims him, 'that's a good name for him.'

  
  


When Poppy quietly opens the door to check on them some ten minutes later, both dragon and wizard are sound asleep, snuggled closely together.

And she leaves them silently, with a tender smile on her lips.

  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N:

Thanks for your kind reviews!!!

You people are great!!!

  
  


Although I should have done some work instead of writing, I decided to post this early, since there really seem to be readers out there who are waiting for it.

*shakes her head in happy wonder* 

I guess after the slow feedback I got on my other story, I'm a bit overwhelmed. *smiles happily*

  
  


Now, before you hit me, I know that the interaction between Severus and Harry, or rather, Aenëus seems a bit OOC. 

But:

It was after an extremely stressing experience for both of them (The Wizarding World almost lost its saviour, after all).

Harry's mind is that of an five-years-old at the moment and he also looks quite cute as a child-dragon. There is a thing called paternal instincts, and I firmly believe not even Severus is immune to it. (And before you ask, yes, his feelings will go in a completely different direction later. I just need them to get to know each other better and get over their prejudiced opinions of each other.) 

There also is a deeper reason to it and you will learn it eventually.

  
  


Things will go back to a more normal state in the next chapter, so don't worry, Severus didn't go soft over an injured dragonling.

Aenëus by the way is Latin and means copper-/bronze-coloured.

  
  


**@ ennui2**, **Resqgal**, **athenakitty** concerning your question about Ron, Hermione and Sirius: You will definitely see them again later. I can't tell you more at the moment, but once Rookwood wakes up and Harry is better things will become clearer. 

**@****Grayswandir: **Hm, I'd rather wonder what Severus will think... *winks*

**@ Cassa_Andra: **Glad you liked it! Your spelling isn't that bad, and even if it was, I have a spellcheck in my writing program. What I need a beta for is to make sure I didn't use a word in a completely wrong context (dictionaries can be misleading sometimes, believe me...), to correct terms typical for the English language that I simply don't know of, and to provide me with a second opinion. Since George knows both languages and I can meet her at university, this arrangement is most likely the best for me. Thanks for your kind comments about Dragon!Harry. If you would like to see what kind of dragon I have in mind when I think of Aenëus, I can try to dig out the link to the picture and tell you. Oh, and thanks for the yummy cake!!! It was just the thing I needed with this depressing weather we have at the moment: Grey sky, rain and cold...

**@ ennui2: **Well, as you see Harry wasn't exactly himself when Severus picked him up. But don't worry, his embarrassment will most certainly catch up with him when he is feeling better, or should I say _older_ again. *chuckles*

  
  


And last but not least a BIG HUG to **George** for betaing the first two chapters!!! THANKS!

  
  


Questions? Suggestions? Comments?

Well, you know what to do... *hint*

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  



	4. Awakening

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 04: Awakening

  
  


For the first time in a long while, it is the bright morning sunlight pouring through the large windows that wakes Severus instead of a nightmare, or the pain of his Dark Mark or someone calling him because of some more or less dire situation. His sleep-befuddled brain easily recognizes his surroundings as the Infirmary even with his eyes still closed, since he has woken in this very room numerous times before. He keeps his eyes shut a few minutes longer, reveling in the warmth, enjoying the absence of pain and of the familiar stiffness and sourness the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse cause.

  
  


'Wait a moment. No pain, no discomfort. What am I doing here?'

  
  


A faint motion of the blanket on the lower half of his body catches his attention, and he realizes the warm weight on his lap is alive and breathing.

The events of the previous evening come rushing back into his mind, and he sits up, his eyes snapping open.

The rusty-red dragon that is lying curled up on his lap makes a soft, mewling sound at the sudden movement, but doesn't wake.

  
  


'And here I hoped it was all just a weird dream. No such luck.'

  
  


The Slytherin sighs, wondering briefly if his past mistakes have really been so bad that he deserves this kind of punishment, but comes to the conclusion that it doesn't really make a difference. Thanks to Albus, he is stuck with Potter until the little dunderhead is restored to his usual annoying self, and he plans to ensure that this will be as soon as possible.

  
  


'And the earlier we get started, the sooner I will be finished with Potter-sitting and can return to my dungeons.'

  
  


Determined to waste as little time as possible on his loathed student, Severus slips out of the bed and after a quick glance back that confirms him that Po- Aenëus he reminds himself- is still sleeping soundly, he proceeds into the bathroom and goes through his morning routine. When he returns to the room about twenty minutes later, cleaned and in fresh clothes, he feels distinctly better. That hot shower was definitely good. Pausing at the door, he looks down on the figure on the bed and lets his analyzing gaze rest on his temporary 'charge'.

  
  


The little dragon has moved into a bright spot of sunlight and is lying there curled up with his muzzle tucked under his right wing and his tail over his front paws, somehow resembling nothing more than a large kitten. His scales are shining like polished metal in the bright light, the golden rays painting copper, bronze and golden highlights on his reptile skin. He is mainly the colour of rust which turns into bronze where the golden crest runs from his forehead along the back of his neck over his back to the tip of his tail. His wings, flanks, sides of the neck and tail, as well as parts of his face are copper, the undersides of his wings golden, and from his throat down to his belly, to the inner parts of his limbs and to the underside of his tail he is bronze and golden. His body is lithe, and though his slender built seems to be natural, the ribs poking out at his sides clearly show that he is underfed. Overall, he has the unfinished look of someone who is in the midst of growing about him, like a child.

Severus snorts.

  
  


'Fortunately, we are in the midst of the summer holidays or he would have girls mooning all over him, sickeningly sweet as he looks. But then, he would probably enjoy that.'

  
  


Lifting his gaze from the dragon, he notices the trays of breakfast on the table near the windows.

  
  


'Time to wake Sleeping Beauty. He sure does need the food.'

  
  


With a sigh of self-pity, he steps to the bed and prods Aenëus in the side, gentler than his usual habit in the hope of preventing another panic attack.

The small creature chirps softly and rolls over onto his back with his paws in the air. His golden underside glitters in the bright light with every breath he takes, as if each of the tiny scales were made of the precious metal, and Severus catches himself wondering if the skin there is as soft as it looks. His hand is almost touching the smooth hide, when he realizes what he is about to do, and he snatches it back rather quickly.

  
  


'Merlin, what is wrong with me?' he sneers with disgust. 'That is Potter in there after all.'

  
  


Drawing himself up to his full, impressive height, he scowls at the sleeping figure.

  
  


"Boy!" he barks, angry at himself, "Wake up!"

  
  


Aenëus jerks awake with a squeak, jumping violently, and instantly cowers away from the tall form looming over him. Unfortunately, his sleep-dazed brain doesn't seem able to catch up with the sudden fit of action, so that he trips over his large wings and lands on the floor rather unceremoniously with a distinct thud. A groan and a whine imply that the freshly healed bones didn't appreciate the fall in the least. 

Severus snorts.

  
  


"Clumsy imbecile."

  
  


Emerald eyes shoot him a frightened look, like a deer caught in the headlights. The Potions Master rolls his eyes.

  
  


"Dramatic again, aren't we? Well, I don't know about you, Po- Aenëus, but I plan to investigate what Poppy had the House-Elves prepare us for breakfast. And judging from the way you look it wouldn't hurt you to do the same."

  
  


The little dragon just continues to stare at him warily, giving no indication of having understood his words. Shrugging, the dark-haired wizard walks over to the table and sits down on one of the chairs. Aenëus, having scuttled under the bed when he saw the man coming towards him, peers out from under a blanket that hangs over the edge of the mattressas Severus lifts the lid from one of the trays and the scent of tea, toast, bacon, sausages, fried eggs and other delicious things drift through the room. His stomach gives a loud growl, and reluctantly, he moves a bit farther out from under his cover to sniff the air. The Slytherin watches him out of the corner of his eyes while buttering a slice of toast and frowns at the boy's, no, dragon's strange behavior. 

  
  


Braver now that the man's attention seems to be concentrated on his breakfast, the dragon dares to leave his safe-haven and hesitantly sneaks towards the table. About halfway there his courage leaves him and he stops, uncertain how to proceed. When it becomes obvious after a few minutes of waiting that Aenëus isn't going to approach his breakfast on his own anytime in the near future, Severus sighs in annoyance and finally raises his eyes to look at him openly. The dragon flinches and whimpers, pressing his small body flat on the ground in a futile attempt to conceal his presence. The Potions Master snorts again.

  
  


"Oh, do come on, boy, surely I am not that dreadful to look at. At least my intimidating demeanor never used to have any impact on your insolent attitude before. So kindly stop writhing on that floor and come here to have some breakfast. Poppy would have my head if she thought I didn't take care of you properly."

  
  


Aenëus just whines softly, and tries to hide beneath his large wings again.

  
  


'Damn it, what is wrong with the boy? He was never that self-conscious during term and whatever happened at the Ministry, there simply wasn't enough time for anything that might have changed his behavior so drastically.'

  
  


Deciding not to use his special tone of voice again lest his effect on the boy might lessen, he resorts to bribery instead, takes the piece of toast he had just buttered and offers it to the little dragon. Aenëus jumps at his movement and backs away a bit, but fixes his gaze hungrily on the food in Severus' hand.

  
  


"You might as well take it," he growls, "Seeing as you are obviously incapable of preparing your own food at the moment. Just don't get used to it."

  
  


The rusty-red creature sniffs again and stretches his slender neck as he follows the trail of the delicious scent. He moves slowly forward until he has reached his previous position, but stops there once more, nostrils flaring, wings half-spread. Emerald eyes gaze longingly at the slice of toast and the small body is trembling slightly.

  
  


'As if he was afraid. Peculiar...'

  
  


Realizing he will have to use his Slytherin instincts to overcome the dragon's reservation, he puts the piece of toast on the floor and pushes it towards Aenëus so that it comes to lie about halfway between them. The dragon chirps anxiously, and albeit reluctantly, moves forward, inch by inch, all the time keeping an eye on the Potions Master, prepared to flee at the slightest threat, like a wild animal. Reaching the piece of toast, he grabs it with his fangs and darts back. Back in a safe distance again, he sits down on his haunches, takes the toast between his paws like a squirrel and gulps it down quickly.

  
  


"You better slow down boy, if you don't want to regurgitate what you just ate. There is no need to eat so hastily anyways, no one is going to take that food away from you."

  
  


Paying no heed to his words, the little dragon finishes his toast and licks his paws clean like a kitten before his yearning gaze returns to the table. Severus heaves another sigh and puts down a second, much smaller piece of toast, this time much nearer to him. Aenëus hesitates at first, but the hunger wins over his caution and he comes and snatches the food. The third piece, however, remains in the Slytherin's hand and although it takes much longer, the little dragon finally comes, trembling with fear, takes the food and rushes back to the bed. They repeat the process until Aenëus puts enough confidence in him that he stays at Severus' side while he eats and doesn't flinch every time the wizard moves, which takes them a while.

  
  


Eventually, the dragon's hunger is stilled, and he strolls back to the bed and climbs onto it, his motions awkward and hindered by his large wings. Once back on the blanket, he sits down in a patch of sunlight and starts to clean himself like a cat. Finishing his own breakfast, Severus rises as well and slowly follows Aenëus to the bed with a mug of tea and the Daily Prophet. The dragon stops licking his left front-paw and glances at him warily, tensed and ready to bolt away any moment. Shaking his head at his former student, the dark-haired wizard sits down on the far end of the bed with his tea-mug in hand and leans against the headboard, silently observing his 'charge' over the newspaper. When nothing happens for a few minutes, Aenëus resumes his cleaning, still alert. His tension lessens after a while, and seeing as the human seems to ignore him, he grows bolder again and slowly, cautiously approaches the wizard. His curiosity finally gets the better of him and he moves next to the Slytherin, glances over his arm and stares at the moving pictures in rapt fascination. He is so enthralled by the magical photographs that he doesn't even notice Severus' hand on his neck until the wizard strokes his golden crest lightly. The dragon starts violently and backs away, but halts when the man makes no move to hurt him or keep him in place. Instead, the Potions Master just holds his hand out for him to smell, and after a few moments of consideration, Aenëus accepts the invitation and sniffs shyly at the pale, long-fingered hand. Seemingly satisfied with his findings, he takes a deep breath and tentatively rubs his head at the outstretched hand. With another shake of his head, the Slytherin complies and softly, carefully caresses the small dragon. The effect is almost as intense as on the previous evening, and several minutes later, Aenëus lies curled up in Severus' lap once more, sighing in relief as the talented hands stroke the rest of the tension out of him. The black-clad wizard echoes his sigh.

  
  


"Just what has happened to you, Potter?" he asks quietly. "What did they do to you?"

  
  


But the little dragon only glances back up at him with no recognition in his jewel-green eyes.

  
  


  
  


Before he can say anything else, however, the door opens -much more carefully than the last time- and Poppy peers in. Aenëus sits up on his lap and tenses, but Severus' soothing hand on his bronze back calms him down enough to prevent him from dashing under the bed again. 

  
  


"It is alright, boy, she means no harm, on the contrary. It was Poppy who tended to your injuries last night," he tells the little dragon calmly.

  
  


The copper-coloured creature relaxes slightly, but continues to watch the Nurse suspiciously.

  
  


The Slytherin nods at her. "I think you can come in now, but move slowly, he is still quite jumpy."

"Thank you, Severus, I'll keep that in mind. Pity that we can't give him a few drops of Calming Potion, but it won't go well with the Nutrient Potion."

  
  


She enters the room slowly, keeping her motions calm and soft.

  
  


"Somehow I doubt that he would benefit from the Calming Potion. Loath as I am to admit, it seems his reactions have their root deeper than in mere hysterics. I fear we will have to investigate this matter farther as soon as he is able to communicate again."

Poppy nods in understanding. "I see. Now, do you think you can keep him calm enough for a quick check-up? I need to see how far the healing of his injuries has progressed."

The Potions Master scowls briefly. "If you give him some time to get acquainted with your presence and approach him bit by bit, I see no problem."

"Then I shall try to do just that," she replies and starts to move towards the two figures on the bed, pausing between each step and continuing to talk softly to the dark-haired Slytherin.

  
  


"Did you get him to eat anything?" she asks.

"Actually, I did, although he was rather reluctant to accept something as he still seems to be frightened by humans. I left it at toast as to not exert his stomach after the malnutrition he must have endured, judging by his eating manners."

"Hm, from the looks of it, the Nutrient Potion did him a world of good. He is nowhere near as bony as he was yesterday."

"His ribs are still too prominent. Do you think it might be a result of the transformation?"

Poppy frowns slightly. "No, I don't think so. It would be different if he was a werewolf, but for an Animagus who has mastered his transformation, the process doesn't take much energy. The way he looks, this must have been going on for some time."

The tall wizard growls. "Too many questions. I just hope that we will be able to reverse the transformation today, so that we can finally get some answers."

"So do I, Severus, so do I. Although he makes a very cute dragon, don't you think so?"

  
  


Her colleague grumbles something she doesn't quite catch, and she smiles, thinking of how sweet the two had looked together last night.

By now, the Nurse has finally reached the bed and sits down on the edge very carefully. The little dragon eyes her anxiously, but the Slytherin's hand caressing his crest and back keeps him distracted, and when again nothing bad happens, he relaxes gradually, half-closing his eyes and snuggling into the man's arms.

  
  


"I think now might be a suitable moment, Poppy. Pay attention to point your wand away from him when you take it out and let him sniff at it first."

  
  


With a nod, she follows his advise and after a quick inspection, Aenëus settles back in the Potions Master's lap again and curls up, obviously set at rest.

Several murmured incantations later, the dragon has fallen asleep, and Poppy looks up at Severus with a deep frown, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her quizzically.

  
  


"Is something wrong?" he demands. "Apart from the obvious, I mean."

"Well, his spleen and the kidneys are healing fine, as are the bones, but... ," she hesitates.

"But?" he prompts.

"I just checked on the fractures again, and it seems some of them were older than one day, as are several of the bruises."

  
  


She can see his black eyes widen, but only because she has known him for so long, to others the obsidian irises would have concealed the pupils' reaction.

  
  


"How old?" he mutters, his eyes starting to glitter.

"The fractures about seven days to three weeks, apparently at four different dates, the bruises from one to at least three weeks since they fade after that, but I think it goes back even farther."

  
  


Both are silent for a moment, and Severus has gone pale, knowing what her findings imply. 

  
  


"Severus..." Poppy begins, but he cuts her off.

"It must have started this summer. I never saw any physical abuse in his memories when I started to teach him Occlumency in his Fifth Year, and during the summer after that Albus taught him, he would have noticed if something had been wrong," he whispers harshly.

  
  


She looks at him with a feeling akin to dread.

  
  


"No _physical_ abuse?" she asks sharply.

"Well, sometimes I would get flashes of his life at home, and the way his relatives were treating him was not... very loving. But as it didn't cross the line of verbal abuse and he never showed any of the signs that suggested it might be otherwise, I let it rest."

  
  


Poppy draws a deep breath and the Slytherin stares down at the dragon in his lap, his face white, his gaze blank.

  
  


"How could I have been so blind? I should have known it was only a matter of time, I before all others. But instead I chose to ignore the warnings, even believed it would be good for him to be put into his place, to put a damper on his arrogance, his sparkling self-confidence. I thought it might keep him grounded, prevent him from completely becoming the arrogant bastard his father had been. And after what happened in his Fifth Year, during one of our Occlumency lessons, I hated him so much that I didn't even care," he whispers in a strangely emotionless voice.

  
  


The Nurse's face softens lightly, and she places a warm hand on his forearm.

  
  


"All of us have made mistakes, Severus. As you just said, even Albus didn't see it coming. The only thing we can do now is being there for the boy and help him through this hard time."

  
  


The Potions Master shakes himself out of his trance-like state and nods.

  
  


"You are right. Do you think he is well enough that we can try the spell when Albus comes back?"

  
  


She looks down on her little patient, contemplating for a moment.

  
  


"I would feel better if we could postpone that until late afternoon, so that he has a chance to replenish his energy stores a bit more. But there is something we can do now."

  
  


Severus tenses slightly as he catches on her train of thought.

  
  


"You want me to try and use Legilimency on him."

Poppy nods. "Perhaps we can learn more about what happened and how he ended up like this."

  
  


The black-clad wizard takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax.

  
  


"Very well, I will try."

  
  


Taking his wand out of an inner pocket of his robe while keeping his movement to a minimum as to not wake the little dragon, he prepares himself and points the polished piece of dark wood at the sleeping form on his lap.

  
  


"Legilimens."

  
  


For a long moment, everything is blank, and Severus fears that his former student might still have enough control over his emotions to shut him out, even in this condition. But then the dragon tenses and memories flash into his mind.

  
  


Fire, fire is everywhere... scarlet and golden flames dancing around a little dragon who lies on the ground, battered... soot covers the rusty-red figure who can only crawl forwards slowly because of the pain... so much pain, but grim determination to get to the archway, to the people behind, to those who will care... desperation sets in as the realization dawns that he will not make it, he is too weak, and cold... he will die alone, alone, always alone... 

then suddenly footsteps... a tall, black-clad figure looms over him, wand ready to strike... a faint memory of others, clad like this one, hurting him, hurting his friends, and panic floods through his veins... but there is no escape and every motion just hurts so much... surprise rises in him at the sudden relief from his all-consuming pain, and another memory stirs in his mind, but is quickly squashed by the feeling of strong arms around him, restraining him, confining him, picking him up... panic... flight... and still cold, so cold... 

the scaring sight of a burned body on the floor, an awful smell, and shock when he can hear the man breathing, one of those who have hurt him... flight... the clothed legs of the other wizard, a familiar scent, a feeling of safeness?... then the two men talk, meaningless sounds to him, but he knows it shouldn't be that way... warmth radiates from the wizard, the one with the familiar scent, calling to him, promising to take away the coldness, and he inches closer to the black-clad legs... who move all of a sudden, and it hurts, and the panic strikes again, telling him to get away, just away, as quick as he can... 

then that voice, that wonderful voice, that makes his heart ache so much, evokes a longing deep inside of him, a desire to belong, not to be so lonely any longer... a fleeting memory of anger, regret, respect and reluctant trust... the decision to take the risk... and then the strong arms around him again, but this time promising shelter and protection... and a sense of rightness... home, home at last...

  
  


Trembling, Severus breaks the spell and puts his wand away.

  
  


'Merlin, what was that? It has never been so intense before!'

  
  


Unlike all the other times when he had used that spell, he has not only glimpsed flashes of the other's memories, but directly experienced them! His head is still reeling with the sensational overload, and he doesn't even hear Poppy asking him if he was alright, so shaken is he by what he has just lived through. 

  
  


Only Aenëus' whimper manages to break through the chaos in his mind, and looking down on the shivering, distressed dragon, Severus reacts on pure instinct and draws the trembling creature into his arms. The little dragon crawls into his robes and claws softly onto his shirt, careful not to hurt him, snuggling into his chest and tucking his head under the Slytherin's chin, as he had done the previous evening.

  
  


The Nurse stares at the two trembling figures in puzzlement, but when she sees them finding comfort in each other and relaxing gradually, she decides to give them some time to recollect themselves and leaves the room to order two mugs of hot chocolate for them from the House-Elves. They both looked like they could need them.

  
  


Back in the room, Severus is still holding the little dragon tightly, and for once, it is not Potter in his arms, the insolent Gryffindor, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Star-Seeker, the son of his school nemesis, the bane of his existence, but a beaten, scared, lonely child yearning for a bit of love and affection. He can't help but think of another dark-haired boy, in a similar situation, who had chosen a way that didn't lead him to the warmth he craved, but to death and destruction. In that moment, he swears himself that he won't let it come that far with this one, no matter what he has to do to save him.

  
  


He looks down into the other's emerald eyes, and for the first time, it is not Potter he sees, but Aenëus. 

  
  


Just Aenëus.

  
  


He cradles the dragon gently, leans back onto the pillow between him and the headboard and closes his eyes.

  
  


'I am sure I am going to regret this. But right now it doesn't really matter. I think I will deal with that when it occurs."

  
  


And as both of them drift into a light slumber, one feeling remains foremost on his mind.

  
  


_Home, home at last..._

  
  


  
  


\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/*\_/

  
  


A/N:

OMG, so many reviews!!! *bounces happily*

You make me so happy!

THANX for your kind words and encouragement! You keep me going!

  
  


Well, and since you were all so nice to me, I sped things up a bit and finished this part. Please kindly ignore any mistakes I might have made, since it is very late, or rather quite early in the morning here, but I wanted to post this. Sorry that I had to cut the chapter at this point, but it would have gotten too long otherwise. The rest of that day will be told in the next chapter which I'll try to have ready by the weekend, but I can't promise it.

  
  


**@ athenakitty: **Yes. Yes. You'll see. Probably not. Yes, eventually. And yes. *winks*

**@ ennui2: **Oh yes, that he will be... *grins*

**@ ****t.a.g.0: **Thanx! I think that it was most interesting for Severus himself. And it's far from over for the poor chap. As to how he knew about it being bad will be explained when they find out what kind of dragon Harry is.

**@ Cassa_Andra: **Wow, another cake!!! Thank you!!! Can I keep you? *makes big puppy-dog eyes*  
Yeah, Aenëus is really, really cute. And he will be rather handsome when he is grown up, too. *sighs dreamily* I like dragons. As to your desire to find out what kind of dragon he is, well, I guess you're not alone with that. But unlike Severus, Minerva, Poppy and Albus you already know. Just look a bit more closely at the title of this story... *winks* Oh, and Ron and Mione were really there with Harry. You'll see in later chapters.

**@ Fireangle: ***shudders* Disturbing picture... But I'm glad you like the story. Here's your update!

  
  


**And many, many thanx to the rest!!!**

  
  


  
  


Any questions, suggestions and comments are highly appreciated.

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  



	5. Afternoon Realizations

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 05: Afternoon Realizations

  
  


In his dream, he is flying. Clouds are passing by, white and fluffy and unceremoniously damp, and the bright rays of the sun above make the metallic bronze scales of the strong neck in front of him glitter beautifully. When he looks down, he can see the ground far beneath them, miniature trees and houses, some people, no more than tiny dots moving along the road. 

  
  


_Indignation. Concern._ Not his own, though.

*They should be long gone by now.* A slightly worried, familiar voice sounds in his mind. *The order to leave the area was announced three weeks ago. Why do they have to wait till the last possible minute? Stubborn fools!*

  
  


Huge wings beat forcefully once, twice, and they climb up higher into the sapphire sky. As the air becomes even chillier, he bends closer over over the golden crest, ducking into the soft, shiny mane for shelter and more warmth. Though they are going at high speed, he knows that they could still take up the pace if need be.

  
  


*I'm going to drop lower so that we can get a better view of the front.*

  
  


Flexing his wings, the colossal body under him pulls into a slow dive, crossing through a low hanging grey cloud, before the air clears again and a horrible scene unfolds in front of their eyes.

  
  


The landscape is barren and desolate, grey and devastated**. **Smoke rises from various spots, some fires still burning, others smouldering. The stumps of many trees, indicating that a wood had once been here, stretch towards the sky in a wordless reproach. And all over the dark, tainted place figures are moving, hundreds of them, thousands, probably even more. Upon drawing nearer, he can make out details, groups of pale-skinned, dark-clad people with the distinct feeling of death and hunger about them, other bands that radiate fury and hatred, and occasional clutters of large, bulky forms towering over the humans around them; vampires, werewolves and giants. Dragons rear up when they become aware of their presence, roaring and breathing fire, but they are too far away to pose a threat to them, and even if they actually took flight they would be no match for the two of them, as they have already proved countless times. But there are so many of them, so many that they fill his entire vision, their lines reaching the horizon.

  
  


_Worry. Anger. A touch of fear._

*Damn, they are getting more and more every day. We will have to act soon if we want to avoid an all-out war.*

  
  


Smoothly, the dive stalls and changes into a graceful arc that brings them near the front lines without putting them into attacking range. Just when they are about to turn back, an all too familiar sound rings over the Dark Lord's army, and they stop in mid-air, large wings beating steadily to keep them in position. Something is coming from the far end of the field, just out of sight, and it is approaching swiftly. A shudder runs through the warm body beneath him, and dread gathers in the pit of his stomach like an ice-cold liquid. A huge figure comes into view, and his heart misses a beat.

  
  


It is a dragon, black and charcoal, its scales absorbing the sunlight, drawing an aura of cold darkness around it. But it is no ordinary dragon. It is a dark, contorted mirror image of the beautiful creature whose neck he is clinging to at the moment.

  
  


_Shock!_

_Fury. Disgust. Hatred._

_An overwhelming urge to attack, to rush in and kill, rid the earth of the foul beast in front of them._

_The hard effort to restrain ancient instincts, a brief struggle, then fierce determination._

*We have to get back. Albus must know. Merlin, this changes everything and unfortunately not for the better. I feared all along that he would finally find one, but I was hoping... Well, it doesn't matter any more. We will deal with this, as we have dealt with everything he has thrown at us so far. Hang on, I'll make a sharp turn and push my speed a bit.*

  
  


Powerful muscles shift beneath him as the copper and golden dragon rushes trough a tricky turning manoeuvre, before hurrying back into the direction they came from. Behind them, he can hear the outraged scream of the dark dragon, but soon they are flying so fast that their momentum swallows all sounds. The cold wind bites into his face and tugs at his hair, and they are still going faster, faster...

  
  


  
  


Severus' eyes snap open, and he finds himself staring directly at the copper, bronze and golden face of his small dragon companion. Who is just playing with the black tresses of his shoulder-length hair. So that was the tugging feeling in his dream.

  
  


'The dream... Now that was strange...'

  
  


He tries to recall parts of what he had seen, but the details slip through his grasp, the more the harder he struggles to remember, and leave him with a blurred, faint memory of what happened.

A soft chirp shakes him out of his thoughts, and focusing his gaze he meets concerned emerald eyes.

  
  


"It's alright, I am awake now," the Slytherin grumbles, slightly embarrassed by the other's proximity.

  
  


'Merlin, that is the second time in less than 24 hours. I should put a stop to it while I still have the chance.'

  
  


Putting his customary sneer into place, he pushes the dragon away from him.

  
  


"I would appreciate it if you left me at least a faint semblance of private space," he says coldly.

  
  


Aenëus looks up at him in confusion, but he pointedly ignores him and stretches leisurely. The dragon's face brightens in understanding, and rising, he copies the Potions Master's motions.

  
  


"Ouch! Boy, watch where you put those damn wings of yours!" Severus barks angrily as one of said wings hits him in the side of the face.

  
  


The dragon closes his wings at once and dives under the blanket, cowering away from the harsh tone of voice.

Sighing, the tall wizard closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

  
  


'Merlin, I'm not suited to deal with an abused child-dragon. I am most certainly not a nice person, nor will I be able to change that fact overnight. I don't even think I would want to. Up until now, my demeanour and appearance have served their purpose quite well and kept most people were I prefer them: At a safe distance. Of course there has been the occasional exception, but this... 

I could try and pretend to care, just act friendly. It would be an easy task. But I suppose he would know it, and he would loose his trust in me.

But I cannot seriously consider opening up to him. He would be able to hurt me, to take advantage of my kindness. It would render me vulnerable, and that is a risk I simply cannot take. 

Moreover, what would happen once he is returned to his former self? -No, that is a train of thought I really do not want to follow at the moment. Right now, I have to believe that this ...situation will not outlast the evening. Anything else shall be dealt with when it occurs.'

  
  


A soft touch at his hand startles him out of his brooding, and opening his eyes, he sees Aenëus nudging his fingers shyly, his muscles tense, the lower half of his body still covered by the blanket. Severus just stares at him for a long moment.

  
  


'He wants to trust. Even after what he has been through, he still wants to trust, the stupid little Gryffindor. But am I able to keep up with him? Slytherins are cautious, not brave. It's what keeps us alive.'

  
  


The dragon nuzzles his hand again, and looks up with fear and a plea in his bright green eyes.

  
  


'If only he was one of my little Snakes... But the Sorting Hat _did_ want to put him into my House if what I saw in his memories is right...'

  
  


Slowly, the wizard moves his hand and caresses the slender neck. Aenëus flinches, but doesn't move away, just stays in the same spot, trembling slightly.

  
  


'Oh well, it's just for one day after all...'

  
  


Thus throwing caution to the winds for the moment, he draws the dragon onto his lap again, and strokes him gently. The small creature sighs in contentment and relaxes, snuggling up to him but leaving him room to be.

  
  


"I will let it pass this once," the Potions Master says in a low voice, "But I expect you to learn how to control those additional limbs you have acquired."

  
  


Aenëus blinks, chirps, and scrambles out of his lap to settle a few feet away on the bed. Opening one wing carefully, he takes it between his paws and stares at it in fascination before he lets go off it again and slowly, cautiously folds it back against his side. The tip drops down, and it is obvious that he would stumble over it should he try to walk. An expression of concentration appears on the delicate features, and several tries later, he has found a position that allows him maximal agility. Encouraged by his success, the little dragon bustles to the end of the bed and spreads his wings to their full span, which makes the room suddenly seem much smaller, since his range is at least four yards wide. Wonder and joy shine in the emerald eyes as he moves them tentatively, testing careful, probing motions. Suddenly, mischief sparkles in the green depths and with half-spread wings, Aenëus jumps from the bed.

  
  


At first, everything goes well, and he glides into a low dive, but unfortunately, the room has an end all too soon, and trying frantically to stop before he crushes head first into the wall, the little dragon tumbles in a heap onto the floor with a loud squeal. Blinking in surprise, he mewls, before he starts to sort his limbs, gives himself a shake, sits back on his haunches and looks at the Potions Master.

  
  


And giggles.

  
  


Desperately fighting to suppress the smile that threatens to find its way onto his face, Severus can't help but feel the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Before soon, however, the sight of a giggling dragon on top of the hilarious flight attempt proves too much for the worn out Slytherin and he chuckles, smirking at the small dragon in front of him.

  
  


Aenëus giggles some more, and then climbs back up onto the bed, rubbing his head on the wizard's hand in a silent request to pet him. Smirk still in place, Severus complies and the dragon half-closes his eyes in pleasure when his fingers smooth down the golden crest and stroke the bronze back between the folded wings. The reptilian creature starts humming deep in the back of his throat, and after a while the Slytherin realizes that the dragon is actually purring. He shakes his head in wonder while his little companion almost melts under his ministrations. 

  
  


Half expecting the other to drift off into slumber again, after all, he does have quite a bit to catch up on, Severus tenses a bit when the dragon suddenly lifts his head and sniffs the air. While he is still wondering if something might be wrong, Aenëus sits up in his lap and sniffs again, tilting his head to one side. A moment later, he rises, nostrils still flaring and jumps from the bed, wings closed but slightly raised to help him balance. He is already halfway to the table when he pauses, rises on his haunches like a meerkat and twitters, making the wizard realize Poppy must have brought them something while they had been asleep.

  
  


Sure enough as he looks up at the table he sees a mug and a small bowl standing there, and now that he concentrates on it, he can smell the faint scent of hot chocolate in the room. Lightly amused, he relaxes, and smiles inwardly at the Nurse's thoughtfulness as he gets up from the bed and walks over to the table. Aenëus follows him, chirping animatedly, his emerald eyes shining brightly. Deciding to make sure that the dark liquid is indeed hot chocolate, he takes a sip from both vessels and finds the drink in the mug to be hot and barely sweetened, just as he likes it, while the fluid in the bowl is warm and sugary. The little dragon, who has been watching him anxiously, makes a questioning sound, and looks up at him expectantly.

  
  


"It seems Poppy had the foresight of providing us with some hot chocolate," he tells his companion and puts the bowl down in front of him.

"Enjoy yourself."

  
  


Twittering excitedly, Aenëus scuttles to the bowl and sniffs at it thoroughly, before he carefully dips his right front paw into the liquid, pulls it out and licks it clean. His eyes begin to sparkle, and swiftly, he bends down and starts lapping up the warm drink.

  
  


Severus raises an eyebrow at his enthusiasm and smirks as he takes another sip from his mug, enjoying the harsh sweetness. 

  
  


A glance at the clock on one of the walls tells him that they still have another hour till lunch, but he is nevertheless surprised at how fast the morning has passed so far. 

  
  


'Well, he has certainly kept me busy,' the Potions Master thinks in amusement, 'But for the sake of both of us, I think we should give it a break, at least for the afternoon. A bit of nice, quiet reading should do the trick, and I still have that ancient tome I purchased in Diagon Alley the day before yesterday on my desk...'

  
  


Ten minutes later find the Slytherin comfortably settled on the bed with his book on his lap and the little dragon curled up at his side, sound asleep, but still humming softly as the black-clad wizard is stroking his back gently with the hand that isn't holding the book. They spend the remaining time till lunch that way and when Poppy eventually opens the door, she smiles yet again at the charming picture they present.

  
  


"Finally awake, Severus?" she asks softly and directs two trays to the table with a gesture of her wand.

  
  


The Potions Master snorts. "Rest assured, Poppy, that this boy manages to be trouble no matter what form he takes. I am eternally grateful that he sleeps as much as he does, for otherwise once he will able to leave the Infirmary, I would have to stay to recover from the burdensome task of looking after him."

The Nurse chuckles softly. "Exaggerating as always, my dear colleague. So far the one thing I have noticed is that you have slept more in the last 24 hours than over the last week and you were not woken by a nightmare even once. With that in mind, I suggest you wake your little friend and eat your lunch. Both of you look like you could need it."

  
  


And with a smile and a wink, she exits the room again, leaving behind a both amused and disgruntled Head of Slytherin and a purring dragon.

  
  


Sighing deeply, Severus decides to let Aenëus wake on his own, rises and strides over to the table. Under the lids he finds grilled chicken, roasted potatoes and green salad on one tray, and a bowl of porridge on the other, both in generous amounts. As the smell of the food drifts across the room, the little dragon wrinkles his nose in his sleep, sniffs instinctively and stirs. Moments later he is fully awake again, and upon seeing that he is alone on the bed, he stretches with a huge yawn. After giving himself a good shake, he chirps and glances over to the tall wizard seated at the table.

  
  


An elegant, jet-black brow crooks inquiringly.

  
  


"Well, what are you waiting for? A handwritten invitation?"

  
  


Aenëus twitters a slightly indignant response and saunters over to the ebony-haired Slytherin, who in turn puts the bowl on the floor and watches the little dragon sniff the content, take the bowl clumsily between his front paws, and start devouring his porridge. Rolling his eyes, the Potions Master turns towards his own plate and leans back to enjoy his meal. That is, until he feels someone staring at him. At first, he ignores it and proceeds to eat his lunch, but once he has finished, he lifts his eyes from the table and meets a pair of emerald ones which are gazing longingly at his leftovers.

  
  


Severus sighs. "Boy, I understand that you have a lot to catch up, but it will do you no good to strain your stomach now. Experience has shown that it is best to take things slowly and add the components step by step. If all goes well and that porridge stays where it is supposed to, Poppy might allow you something a bit more substantial for dinner."

  
  


The dragon blinks at him, then at the grilled chicken, then back at him and whines pitifully, his large green eyes begging shamelessly.

  
  


"Oh alright, I see you have to learn it the hard way. But do not complain if you get sick," the Slytherin growls and puts a few pieces of chicken and potatoes into the bowl on the floor.

  
  


Chirping gratefully, his little companion enthusiastically empties the bowl, sighs contentedly and returns to the bed to clean himself. Keeping the bowl at hand in case the dragon showed any signs of nausea, Severus follows him and resumes his reading position. When after a while nothing has happened, he relaxes slightly, but continues to keep an eye on the copper creature. Aenëus, however, seems to stick to the routine of most young, namely eating, sleeping and playing, and curls once again up at the wizard's side with his head on the other's lap.

  
  


The Slytherin shakes his head in wonder. 'It seems that little children have even tougher stomachs than teenagers, hard to believe as it is....'

  
  


The rest of the afternoon passes more leisurely. Severus reads his potions book while Aenëus sleeps and recovers. When the little dragon wakes a few hours later, he sets off to explore the room, and sticks his nose into every corner and niche he can find. Several sneezes later, he has found his way to the window, and with immense effort manages to climb onto the sill. After half an hour has passed, the wizard becomes uneasy, so he rises and moves over to the window to find out what has captured his companion's attention so thoroughly. At first, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, but on second look, he notices Hagrid working in his garden with Fang snuffling around. Aenëus stares down at them in rapt fascination, his green eyes dark and unreadable.

  
  


"That's Hagrid," Severus tells him in a low, calming voice. "Your friend Hagrid, the one with the unhealthy liking for dangerous monsters. Can you remember him?"

  
  


The dragon shudders, then he blinks and whimpers, shaking his head lightly as if trying to clear it.

  
  


"Potter – Aenëus – can you understand me? You must try to remember."

  
  


Aenëus moans, and closes his eyes, trembling violently by now. The Slytherin steps behind him and lays a soothing hand on his back, only to find the dragon tucking his head under his black robes once again. Sighing in frustration, the man circles his arms around the smaller figure and holds him until the trembling subsides.

  
  


'I just hope Albus will come soon. We need answers, and yet more questions arise with every moment.'

  
  


A vague memory of a book about dealing with children and youths flashes in his memory and deciding it might be better to let some things rest at the moment, he sets the dragon down and transfigures his napkin into a small ball to distract his little companion from the distressing event. It works splendidly, and when much later a knock sounds from the door, Severus is once again absorbed into his potions text while Aenëus is playing on the floor with the ball like a kitten.

  
  


Keeping his wand in reach, the Potions Master scowls darkly at the closed door.

  
  


'Who might that be? Poppy doesn't knock because of Aenëus and Albus never knocks for whatever reason he has.'

  
  


Aloud, he growls: "Who is there?"

"It's me, Minerva. Albus spoke with me this morning. May I come in?" the familiar voice answers.

"As your presence here will hopefully lead to my being released from certain babysitting duties, you are more than welcome to do so." 

  
  


The door opens and the Transfiguration teacher enters the room with a weary, tight-lipped expression on her face that softens as soon as she sees the little dragon. She looks exhausted and Severus supposes that Albus gave her a fair share of the work before he left.

  
  


'With all that stubbornness and Gryffindor courage she is so proud of, we sometimes forget that her health is not what it used to be before the incident last year. Not that she would allow us to be easy on her, mind you...'

  
  


A rash movement catches his eye, and a moment later the warm body of the dragon, who had made a dash for the bed in fright of the stranger, is pressed to his side. Severus rolls his eyes, but permits his little companion to slip under his arm. When he looks up to his usually stern colleague, he can see amusement sparkling in her eyes.

  
  


"I can see where this might prove a bothersome task for you, my friend," she comments with a tight-lipped smile.

The Slytherin mock-growls. "I trust you to keep this between the two of us. I would rather not have my reputation ruined."

Minerva snorts. "No need to worry, Severus. Your little secret is save with me."

"Now _that_ set my mind at peace," he drawls, noticing that the dragon has calmed down a bit and is watching the two of them intently.

  
  


The other teacher seems to have noticed it, too, for she says softly:

"Albus told me what happened, and he also mentioned his fear of humans. Nonetheless I need to have a look at him before I try anything."

"I think that will pose no problem as he has calmed down considerably since yesterday. Just keep in mind to refrain from making any abrupt or potentially threatening motions and give him time to get used to your proximity."

  
  


The older witch nods, and slowly approaches the bed. Aenëus tenses slightly and observes her every movement, but relaxes when the Potions Master's hand starts to stroke his bronze and golden chest and the two Professors continue their light banter. Shortly after, Minerva is sitting next to them on the mattress with the dragon between herself and her colleague and as the rust-red creature realizes that she means no harm, he cautiously draws a bit nearer and eyes her curiously.

  
  


"Go on, boy, she will not hurt you, being your Head of House and all such, I suppose," Severus tells the little one.

  
  


Aenëus twitters and moves to the witches side, sniffing the offered hand carefully and finally allowing her to touch him, although he flinches at first and doesn't look very comfortable with it.

  
  


"Remarkable," she murmurs, "I knew he had more talent than he let on, but this... I would never have guessed. I suppose I will have a long talk with my student once he is back to his human form."

"When can we try the spell?"

Minerva looks up at him over the dragon. "As soon as you deem him calm enough. He needs to be relaxed, or the Restoring Spell will hurt him and I would rather avoid having him panic."

"You want to do it now?" The Slytherin frowns. "I thought Albus..."

"The Headmaster left for Romania this morning in order to have a comprehensive talk with Charlie Weasley about dragons. He made a floo call two hours ago and told me he would not make it back today and stay there overnight, kindly requesting that I cast the spell."

  
  


Her pursed lips tell him the nature of the old wizard's request and he knows it must have been his usual, friendly way of conveying an order.

  
  


"I understand," he says calmly, letting his expression show her that he really does. "And I think that since you are not only a Transfiguration Professor but also an Animagus he made a wise choice."

  
  


A part of her stiffness vanishes and he realizes she is relieved by his approval.

  
  


'Silly Gryffindor, she should know me better.'

  
  


"I suggest you let him sniff your wand and then give me a minute to draw his attention at me. I will tell you when we are ready."

  
  


Minerva nods, and slowly draws her wand out of her sleeve, holding it out for the dragon to examine. Aenëus sniffs it briefly and seems to dismiss it as harmless. Her fellow teacher sighs and beckons his little companion to return to him.

  
  


"Come here, boy. Time to settle down again."

  
  


Aenëus chirps and obeys eagerly, crawling onto the wizard's lap and pushing his head against one of the pale, long-fingered hands like a cat. Severus fulfils his wish and caresses the spots he knows the dragon likes best, while he murmurs soothing nonsense in his enticing, dark voice. His charge sighs and once again turns into a humming puddle under his adept hands, eyes closed, tail wound around the Slytherin's waist.

  
  


'If all goes well now, this will be the last time I have a purring dragon on my lap to cuddle with, much less the Boy-Who-Lived,' he ponders in amusement.

  
  


But instead of the relief he expected, a feeling of emptiness and loss accompanies the thought, and an irrational fear of threatening loneliness rises in his chest.

  
  


'Damn, what is wrong with me? I should be grateful to be able to return to my dungeons and finally get a little peace down there.'

  
  


Angry at himself for his rebellious emotions, he forces himself to relax before his uneasiness gets a chance to distress the small dragon.

  
  


"I think now would be a good moment," he mutters to his colleague.

  
  


She nods and seconds later, the bright blue-white flash of light that accompanies the Restoring Spell envelopes the rust-red body of the dragon.

Aenëus' eyes snap open and he jerks into a sitting position in Severus' lap with a squeal.

  
  


Then the light is gone and both teachers are staring at him in astonishment.

  
  


Nothing has happened.

  
  


The little copper and golden dragon shudders and gives himself a shake, before he looks up at the Potions Master with a reproachful expression. Not being a successful spy for nothing, the black-haired wizard regains his composure quickly and strokes his companion soothingly.

  
  


"She didn't hurt you, now did she?" he murmurs.

  
  


Aenëus makes an indignant sound, but lies down again and snuggles against the warm human body.

  
  


Severus raises his gaze at his colleague to find the older witch still staring at the little dragon with round eyes.

  
  


"Do you have an idea why it did not work?" he asks her softly.

"I... but that cannot be... No, Severus, I do not know why the spell has failed. The only explanation that I know of is that...," she pauses.

"Is what?" he snaps.

"...The only possibility for the spell to fail is that this is not an Animagus," she whispers in a shaken voice.

Onyx eyes widen in surprise. "You mean this is not Harry Potter?"

Minerva shakes her head. "I did not say that. I only told you that he is most likely no Animagus."

"But how is that possible? And what else could he be?" he demands harshly.

"I... There are ancient legends, really ancient legends, Severus, from a time before the Founders decided to build Hogwarts. They tell of a battle between Darkness and Light, Dusk and Dawn, and an Age of Twilight in which a special kind of Shape-shifters fought side by side with the wizards and witches. But the only memories of that time are no more than the legend of a legend of a legend and scattered to the four winds."

  
  


Both are silent for a while, until the Slytherin finally speaks up again.

  
  


"I see. Are there ways to verify that it is doubtlessly Potter somewhere in that body?"

"Besides Legilimency you mean? Yes, there are a couple of spells, most of them out of bounds in these days."

The black-clad wizard snorts in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"My dear Minerva, when has that ever posed a hindrance for those of your House?"

She huffs. "You are one to speak!"

"So you will do it?"

A sigh. "Yes."

"Good. What are the effects of the spell? Do I have to prepare him somehow?"

"No. That is one reason why the spells were banned, because you feel no more than a faint tingle and they tell way too much about your mental condition. Just remain calm and see to it that he does the same," she tells him.

"Alright."

  
  


The Transfiguration Professor takes a deep breath and her face turns into a mask of concentration, before she mutters a few words in Latin.

Severus feels the dragon squirm as the tingle passes through his body, but apart from that he shows no reaction.

  
  


"Well?" 

  
  


Minerva's eyes have become dark and worried, and she presses her lips tightly together.

  
  


"Do not test my patience, woman. What did you find out?" he snarls.

"This is definitely Harry Potter. But he does not know it. In fact, he knows almost nothing about who he is, who we are or what is happening to him. His mental state is that of a child, and by now he has learned that he can trust you, and that this seems to be a good place because he was given food and nobody has hurt him so far."

She looks the younger man in the eyes. "His memories are still there, but he seems to have locked them into his subconscious somehow. And he is afraid, Severus, scared to death by what they contain. I think that once he opens up to them again and accepts their contents, he might be able to change back into his human form. But to achieve that will be a hard piece of work for us, mainly for you."

The Potions Master groans. "Why me? We never got along well when he was still my student."

  
  


Shooting him a stern look, Minerva slowly reaches over and strokes the golden crest of the dragon gently, and Severus can feel him tense up immediately.

The older witch pulls her hand back.

  
  


"I take it you noticed his reaction to others. You are the one who saved him and brought him here, and he trusts only you without reservation. Anyone who wants to try to help him will not be able to do anything without that basis. Face it, my friend, if we want Harry back, it will be yours to accomplish. Poppy, Albus and I will help you as good as we can, but most of the task will lie with you."

  
  


Heaving a deep sigh, the Slytherin looks down on the dozing dragon in his lap.

  
  


"I understand your argumentation, albeit I cannot say that I like it. But I know what I owe to the Wizarding World and I will do my best to return its saviour to his former self. Is there anything else I should know?"

  
  


Minerva opens her mouth, but whatever she wanted to say is cut off by her younger colleague's soft gasp of pain.

Wide onyx eyes flicker down to where his right hand grasps his left forearm, and the burning pain increases steadily.

Looking up to the other teacher, he sees that she has paled and is gazing at his arm with a concerned expression.

  
  


"He is calling," Severus confirms.

  
  


Dark eyes behind rectangular glasses raise again to meet his own.

  
  


"I have to go or he will get suspicious. Will you stay here and watch over Aenëus?"

Sadness evident on her face, she nods. "I will take care of him. If you take care of yourself."

His lip curls into a slight smirk. "I will."

  
  


Gently disentangling himself from the dragon, he starts to rise when a pitiful whimper stops his motions. Upon turning back, he sees that Aenëus has woken and is looking up at him with worry darkening his emerald eyes. His little companion nudges the wizard's hand gently and whines softly. Sighing, Severus bends down and strokes the smooth copper cheek. The small dragon closes his eyes and leans into the caress.

  
  


"Don't worry, little one. I will be back soon."

  
  


Aenëus mewls miserably as he steps back.

  
  


"I promise."

  
  


Minerva puts a soothing hand on the bronze back, and the dragon chirps, very softly, his bright eyes still on the tall wizard.

  
  


"Go. We will wait for you," she says with an encouraging nod to the door.

"Thank you."

  
  


He is already halfway through when her voice halts him a last time.

  
  


"Oh, Severus? Aenëus is a good name for him."

  
  


  
  


He leaves the Infirmary with a smile on his lips.

  
  


But as he hurries through the empty castle, the picture that remains in his mind is the worried glance that the dragon has given him, and what he could read in those expressive eyes: a feeling of emptiness and loss, and an irrational fear of threatening loneliness.

Grimly, he steals his resolve.

  
  


'I will come back. I promised.'

  
  


  
  


#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

  
  


A/N:

WHAT THE HELL?

WOW, SOOO MANY REVIEWS!!!

  
  


*almost faints at her desk from happiness*

  
  


THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! 

  
  


You make me sooo happy! *bounces through the room in joy*

Well, you definitely earned yourselves a reward, and here is it: Chapter 5, the longest so far, hopefully with a few answers to your questions.

And I even got it ready just in time, it's still weekend. *twinkles*

  
  


To those who asked about the beginning of Harry's and Severus' relationship in human form:

I have to ask you for patience. They need to build their relationship step for step, and this stage of paternal love is necessary for them to learn the other's true nature, without masks and prejudices. It will move on several chapters later, but for now you have to bear with it.

  
  


This is kind of a rough version of the chapter, so individual replies will be added as soon as I manage.

  
  


Thanks for your support!!! 

  
  


  
  


I'm looking forward to any questions, suggestions and comments. *winks*

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  



	6. Appreciated Returns

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 06: Appreciated Returns

  
  


  
  


This time, the Dark Mark takes Severus to a gloomy, old mansion. The Death Eater on guard duty at the entrance nods at him coolly.

  
  


"The Master is in the drawing room. I wouldn't let him wait any longer if I were you," he sneers and lets him pass.

  
  


Following the dark corridors to the drawing room, the Potions Master curses soundlessly. Usually, the Dark Lord talks to his followers in the hall, the smaller rooms are reserved for one on one meetings, and that his master is waiting for him in the drawing room in particular is either a quite good sign or a rather bad. But his anxiousness won't help him with this, on the contrary it could only make things worse, so he uses his Occlumency skills and empties his mind of all emotions. When he arrives in front of the room, the novice at the door gives him an unreadable glance, but before he can say anything, the high, cold voice of the Dark Lord sounds.

  
  


"Come in, Severus."

  
  


He nods at the novice, and the young man opens the door for him.

Gliding effortlessly through the familiar steps of Death Eater protocol, Severus strides through the length of the room with averted eyes, sinks down next to Voldemort and kisses the hem of his robes, before backing up again and waiting on his knees for his master to speak first, eyes still cast down.

  
  


"I missed you at our last meeting, Severus," the tall, black-clad wizard says softly.

  
  


Voldemort soft-spoken is never a good sign.

  
  


"I was late, My Lord. As usual."

Silence. 

  
  


Waiting for the seemingly inevitable Crucio, the Potions Master tries to relax as he knows it helps with the pain.

Then a low chuckle.

_'Do not look up, let not show anything on your face,'_ he thinks.

  
  


"You know, Severus, it is always refreshing to deal with you. You never snivel or grovel in a futile attempt to ease your punishment. I appreciate that."

  
  


Footsteps sound, and he can hear the rustling of heavy robes as the Dark Lord draws nearer until he is standing directly in front of him.

  
  


"Look up, Severus. Look at your Master."

  
  


Obediently, he lifts his gaze.

The Dark Lord is standing a few feet away, tall and thin as ever, the snake-like face gaunt and white, the scarlet eyes glittering.

  
  


"Tell me, Severus, what did you find when you arrived at the Department of Mysteries?"

  
  


Grimacing inwardly, Severus concentrates on showing his master the informations he is intended to see. Voldemort calling you by your name so often is even worse than Voldemort soft-spoken.

  
  


"The Chamber of Death was a burned mess, absolutely devastated. I found four corpses, three burned beyond recognition, but since there was an axe next to one of them I guess Macnair was among them. Rookwood had managed to hide behind the Archway, but he was so gravely injured that I could not help him. He is dead as well. And then there was one more thing." He pauses briefly.

"In an unmarred circle lay a dragon, severely wounded. It died before I could do anything. Then I heard the Aurors arrive and left for Hogwarts. That was all, Master."

  
  


While he is talking, he can feel the other wizard probing his mind, scanning his thoughts for clues if he tells the full truth.

Scarlet eyes burn into onyx.

Silence again.

  
  


"Does Dumbledore know about what happened?" the Dark Lord whispers.

Severus swallows.

"Yes, My Lord. He has various spies in the Ministry."

"The dragon... did they find out anything about the dragon?"

  
  


_'Damn!'_

Thinking quickly, his thoughts rushing faster than a Snitch, he nods.

  
  


"Not the Ministry, My Lord, but Dumbledore. Although he knows nothing for sure, the old coot suspects that it was the result of a very ancient conjuring spell. He is still researching the matter, and even went so far as to visit one of the Romanian dragon colonies to gather further knowledge."

  
  


Another uncomfortable pause.

  
  


"And how exactly does he think his 'glorious' Gryffindors had learned this 'very ancient conjuring spell'?" the Dark Lord hisses.

"Dumbledore suspects that the Potter brat's mutt of a godfather had access to the Black library and provided him with books on ancient magic."

  
  


Again, nothing is said for a while.

  
  


"So the Boy-Who-Refuses-To-Die has eventually found out that there is more to magic than Tarantallegra and Impedimenta... and it helped him to escape yet another attack that should have killed him," Voldemort ponders softly, turning away from his minion to the silver flames that are dancing in the fireplace. 

"He may be gone now, but until I see his dead body with my own eyes, I have no proof of his death... and I do not intend to repeat the mistake of underestimating him another time. Oh no, when Potter and I meet again, it will be for the last battle between us... but till then it must be ascertained that the way back for him and his little friends remains hidden and closed until the time is right," he mutters.

  
  


Severus allows a slight frown to grace his features.

"My Lord?" Respectful. Mildly interested.

  
  


The Dark Lord gazes back at him sharply.

  
  


"I expect you to keep me informed on Dumbledore's findings concerning the dragon. In addition, I want you to do your own research about the spell, discreetly as always. Send me your reports in the usual way."

  
  


His scarlet eyes return to the flickering silver flames.

  
  


"You may go now, Severus."

"Yes, Master. I will do as you wish."

  
  


Rising to his feet, the Potions Master bows low, and backs out of the room. You do not turn your back on Lord Voldemort.

As he leaves the mansion, a dizzying feeling of relief is flooding him. He has just made it out unscathed for the first time in three months! 

_'It seems that the incident in the Department of Mysteries had a greater impact on him than I thought.'_

Shaking his head in wonder, he leaves the anti-apparition wards and apparates back to Hogwarts.

_'That certainly went better than I dared to hope.'_

  
  


  
  


The sun has not set yet when he arrives at the gates and it is a beautiful, warm summer evening. Dinner time has passed about an hour ago and in a fleeting thought, he wonders if the little dragon would have accepted food from Poppy or Minerva, before mentally smacking himself upside the head.

  
  


_'Why should I bother? He will eat when he is hungry enough.'_

But a distant doubt stirs in the depths of his mind.

_'And what if not?'_

  
  


Growling, he quickly squashes the thought, and lengthens his strides. As he crosses the grounds on his way to the castle, he can see from a wide distance the large windows of the hospital wing, and he can't shake the feeling of someone's gaze on him. And although he knows that he is still too far away to make out any details, he looks up. For a long moment, he thinks he can actually distinguish the shape of a small, winged figure at the third window from the left, and green eyes meet his black, but then it is gone.

  
  


_'I must have imagined it. It is impossible to see anything so clearly from this distance.'_

He shrugs.

_'Must have been the nerves. It has been a long day.'_

  
  


The giant squid turns lazily when he passes the lake, and ripples disturb the smooth, sapphire surface of the water, blurring the reflections of the clouds in the sky above. Birds are singing merrily in the trees, the air carries the scent of grass and flowers, and Hagrid yells a jolly greeting from over by his hut, which Severus returns with a nod. 

Yes, it is a beautiful day, and for the first time in many months he is in the right set of mind to see it.

  
  


  
  


After having made a short stop in the dungeons to change from his Death Eater attire into his customary school robes, the dark-haired Slytherin finally heads for the hospital wing. He climbs the many stairs stoically, replaying the meeting with the Dark Lord in his mind while he is walking. 

  
  


Voldemort had seemed strange, well, more so than usual. Oh, he had been angry, there was no doubt about that, but there had been something else... a touch of uncertainty in the otherwise so emotionless and self-confident man. And the flicker in his eyes when he had asked about the dragon... as if he was afraid. Severus has known the Dark Lord for many years, since his late teens in fact, and is by now one of the few people that are able to look behind the atrocious mask of hatred and power that he is constantly wearing. Unbeknownst to most of his fellow Death Eaters, Voldemort has something of a soft spot for him due to his family ...background, and although the sadistic bastard knows to hide it well, Severus is aware of it nonetheless. He wouldn't have survived his absence on that first meeting in the graveyard if it were different, like Karkaroff, the weak-hearted fool who had served as an remainder of how the Dark Lord dealt with traitors at the following assembly. Now that had been a long night, and it is still haunting his dreams sometimes. 

  
  


He shivers, but only inwardly. After all, he isn't a spy for nothing, and a good one at that since he has managed to stay alive this long. Having plenty of experience in keeping a tight control over his face and body, he is more than adept at showing others exactly what he wants them to see. The last time he allowed his true feelings to take over had been three years ago in the Shrieking Shack Incident with Black. Hadn't done him much good, that, though. Okay, and maybe when Potter violated his Pensieve last year. But even that had rather served to maintain his distance and prevent the dratted boy from actually pitying him, fuelling the Gryffindor's hatred for him instead. At least that had worked.

  
  


His arrival at the Infirmary shakes him out of his thoughts, and keeping his expression emotionless, he makes his way to the private room where Aenëus and Minerva are waiting for his return. Before he has the chance to raise his hand and knock, however, Poppy's voice rings from behind the door.

  
  


"Just come in already, will you, Severus?! Your little friend is waiting for you."

  
  


Putting on his customary scowl and preparing for the worst, namely an overly affectionate greeting, he opens the door and enters the sunlight-flooded room. His first glance falls on the small dragon that is sitting halfway between the bed and the entrance, his copper wings half-spread so that the velvety golden underside is visible, his rust-red body stiff and tense, his bright green eyes raking over the tall Slytherin as if to ensure that he is unharmed, before his eyes finally settle on the other's onyx orbs. Relief shines in the emerald depths, a shy joy and a scared happiness, and the slender frame starts to tremble slightly as uncertainty flickers across his gaze, the longing for body contact, but at the same time the fear of being hurt or rejected should he try to come nearer.

  
  


A bit overwhelmed by the so painfully familiar emotions in Aenëus' eyes, Severus drops on one knee and sorts the dilemma for him by spreading his arms in an open invitation. The dragon mewls questioningly, and makes a timid move towards him. The Slytherin rolls his eyes.

  
  


"And here I thought you might have the decency to come over and help me to get warm again after I went out there and risked my neck for you, ungrateful little whelp. Merlin only knows why it is freezing in the dungeons even at this time of the year," he growls.

  
  


Aenëus tilts his head to one side as if to ponder his words, then chirps happily and bustles over to the black-clad wizard, putting his front paws on the man's chest and enfolding him in his large wings. The Potions Master can feel the fast beating of the other's heart in the warm, still trembling body pressed against his front, and hears the dragon twittering softly into the crook of his neck. The feeling of rightness, of belonging is back, and it soothes a part of him that he hadn't even noticed was distressed. Slipping one arm under his little companion's lower body while supporting his upper half with a hand on the bronze back, he picks Aenëus up and straightens, still faintly amazed that a creature that size could be so light. 

  
  


As he lets his gaze wander around the room, he notes the other occupants. Poppy is standing next to the table beneath the large windows, a friendly smile on her lips, while Minerva is sitting on one of the chairs, her face clearly expressing her relief upon his safe return and another chair is occupied by...

  
  


"Albus?" the Head of Slytherin exclaims. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought you wanted to stay in Romania until tomorrow."

  
  


The silver-haired wizard smiles warmly and nods.

  
  


"That is correct, my young friend. Alas, when Minerva called me, telling me you had been summoned, I decided to head back early, knowing I could always return in the morning should I so desire. And looking at your little friend, I am glad that I arrived here in time, for even though my company may not have provided him much comfort, I think Fawkes' could help ease his anxiousness somewhat."

  
  


Severus' eyes snap to the back of the Headmaster's chair, and sure enough the magnificent phoenix is sitting there, preening his crimson wing feathers.

  
  


"Aenëus spent the whole time waiting at the window, stiff as a statue in the beginning. After about an hour, he started first trembling, then shaking. It was rather bad, but he would let neither Poppy nor me near him, so we were unable to do anything. Fortunately, Albus came, and Fawkes' singing finally managed to calm him down a bit. He only relaxed when he saw you walking up to the school from the gates, though how he knew it was you when you were still no more than a dark spot in the distance is beyond me," Minerva tells him calmly.

Poppy shrugs next to her. "Probably the same way he sensed that Severus was already up here. He jumped down from the window-sill and settled on the floor, staring a hole into the door just before you arrived. I think he knew even before Albus did."

  
  


The Slytherin guards his expression closely, but he knows that the older wizard will guess what unsettled him. The time in which Aenëus had been so upset is almost exactly the space of time that he spent in the company of the Dark Lord, with approximately one hour before and one after. His arms tighten slightly around the sleek body of his companion and the dragon folds his wings back at his sides.

  
  


_'How much do you know? What did you remember?'_ he wonders briefly.

  
  


Aloud he says: "Now I am more intrigued than ever to hear what you learned about what kind of dragon he may be, Albus. From your words, I take it that Aenëus showed no inclination of accepting any food?" Seeing their confirming nods, he continues: "Well, then I suggest we have some dinner and I give you my report of the meeting, and afterwards the Headmaster tells us what he learned in Romania."

"That is a fine idea, Severus," Albus agrees, twinkling merrily, "But I must insist that you wait with your report until _all_ of us have finished our meal. Wizards in my age have their difficulties with concentrating on more than one thing at the same time, you know?"

The Potions Master snorts in mild amusement, _'Difficulties concentrating, my ass...'_, but moves over to the others nevertheless.

  
  


He swiftly discards the absurd notion of keeping the dragon on his lap, and sets him down on the window-sill next to the table. Aenëus chirps a faint protest, and Severus can't help the annoying feeling of loss which he knows is purely irrational, since the room is thoroughly warmed by the sunlight and its cosy temperature alone would have sufficed to chase the chill of the dungeons out of his bones, despite of what he had told his little companion earlier.

  
  


Taking a seat next to the dragon seems to satisfy the other's need for proximity however, and after Albus has clapped his hands and summoned dinner for them, they eat in silence for a while, only broken by the occasional comment about Aenëus' cute table manners and healthy appetite. This time, the little dragon doesn't ask for a second helping when he has emptied his bowl, and starts to clean his paws and face instead.

  
  


"He behaves like a cat," Minerva notes with approval.

Her old mentor regards the copper and golden creature thoughtfully.

"That he does. Well, I guess it fits with the information I gained today. But I think we should first listen to what Severus has to say, before I can tell you more."

  
  


The Slytherin nods and launches into a detailed account of his meeting with the Dark Lord.

When he has finished talking, Albus and Minerva are looking thoughtful, while Poppy frowns in confusion.

  
  


"But why did you make up that story about an ancient conjuring spell?" she asks puzzled.

He scowls, but it is the Headmaster that answers in his stead.

"Severus set him on a false trail to keep him from coming too close to the truth, which is that Harry is not only very much alive, but still among us. Very well done, my dear boy. True enough to keep him occupied, but too far off to need to fear him discovering what really happened. I doubt I could have done it better myself."

Again, the Potions Master nods, and adds: "Knowing ...the boy, we cannot keep him hidden forever. As soon as he has recovered and becomes more comfortable with his environment, he is prone to follow his desire to explore, and I sincerely doubt he will content himself with the castle. With the story I fed the Dark Lord, should Aenëus be seen by ill-disposed eyes, I can tell him that we have found a similar spell and are testing its limits."

  
  


The Head of Gryffindor shoots him a respectful, tight-lipped smile.

  
  


"It is a pleasure to see the famous Slytherin cunning at work for the good cause," is all she says, and from the stern Transfiguration teacher, this is high praise indeed.

"I can only agree with that," Albus sides with his colleague, and flashes Severus a proud smile. "Alas, I think it is time to rely what little information I was able to gather. I will make it short: There is no dragon type in existence that fits our young friend's description."

He looks gravely into the round.

"And that is exactly why I wanted to stay. The Dragon Keepers have access to an excessive library which I hope may provide further clues as to what kind of dragon specifically it is that Harry has turned into. Mr Weasley thinks it might be a race that is believed extinct, and could therefore be mentioned in the ancient tomes that are stored in Bucharest. In connection with what Minerva told me, I think it will be best if we pay them another visit tomorrow and see what we can find."

  
  


The Slytherin cocks an elegant eyebrow.

  
  


"We?"

"Oh, I apologize for my vagueness. I meant Minerva and I, of course." The old wizard twinkles benignly at his younger colleague. "I need you to stay with Aenëus, to watch over his recovery and help him to settle in. I doubt you would like to leave him alone in your chambers at this point anyway."

  
  


Black eyes narrow dangerously and start to glitter.

  
  


"I beg your pardon, Albus? Did I just hear you mention this dragon and my chambers in the same sentence?" Severus snarls.

"I think you heard him quite well," Minerva cuts in with a warning glance. "Aenëus must remember that he is Harry Potter as soon as possible, and staying here in the Hospital Wing is not going to help him. He needs to see things and places he knew before the change, but slowly, step by step. As we consider staying in Gryffindor Tower an unnecessary burden to ask of you, we think it will be best if he moves into the dungeons with you. This way he will have a neutral place to retreat to when things get too much for him, and you have the sanctuary of your rooms."

  
  


The tall Slytherin grimaces. _'Neutral place? Who do they think they are kidding?'_

  
  


"Don't pull such a face, Severus," Poppy chides him. "Judging from what I have seen so far, I am fairly certain you two are going to get along quite well, once you got used to each other. For now, I think you should stay here one more night, to see how he reacts to the stress of the afternoon. But after breakfast, I will have another look at him, and if his condition this morning was any indication, he should do more than nicely, and you will be able to leave tomorrow."

"Splendid," he presses through clenched teeth.

  
  


The silver-haired wizard raises his white brows at him.

  
  


"No arguing, Severus? How unusual. Is this a new tactic?"

The Potions Master sneers. "It seems I am outvoted anyway, so I might as well spare me the effort."

  
  


Planning to cross his arms in front of his chest to emphasize his point, Severus is shocked to find that one of his rebellious hands has once again found its way to his little companion, and is currently stroking the dragon's head that is resting on his shoulder, with Aenëus' body still lying next to his chair on the window-sill.

  
  


"I see," Albus replies, smirking into his beard. "Nice name you chose for him, by the way. I really like it."

The younger wizard groans inwardly. So much to his supreme body control.

  
  


_'Did that annoying twinkle just get brighter? Oh, one of these days Albus will get his, and I hope I will be there to enjoy it!"_

  
  


  
  


Two hours later, the Slytherin and the transformed Gryffindor are alone in the room, both lying comfortably on the large bed. A light breeze stirs the curtains and carries with it the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the song of a nightingale. The air is soft and warm and like a caress on the skin, and the light of a half-moon together with Severus' lit wand cast the room into shadows of different shades of grey, silver and blue.

  
  


Albus, Minerva and Poppy left shortly after he agreed to allow Aenëus into his dungeons, staying just long enough to go through their plans for the next few days a last time. Albus and Minerva would go to Bucharest tomorrow, and search the library for any mentioning of shapeshifters who could change into dragons, or a dragon race that resembles the one Harry had turned into. Poppy would give Aenëus a final check-up after breakfast, then spend whatever time she could spare researching ways to help Aenëus overcome his memory block and rely them to Severus. The Potions Master finally would look after his charge, help him to settle in and keep him occupied, while doing his own research in the library. Thank Merlin that Madam Pince was currently on holiday in Germany visiting old and illustrious libraries, she would get a heart attack if she ever saw a dragon amidst her precious books!

  
  


Severus chuckles inwardly at the thought.

  
  


The tall, dark-haired wizard is unusually relaxed this evening, calmly reading his potions book and lazily stroking his scaled companion. The little dragon, however, seems unable to calm down completely and is still fidgeting around even after another hour has passed. Eventually, the Slytherin lowers his book and frowns at Aenëus, but only receives a soft whine and a whimper in return. Heaving a deep sigh, he decides that he would have to do something if he wants to sleep this night, so he raises his potions book again and starts to read out loud.

  
  


For the first couple of minutes, the small dragon just listens to him in rapt fascination, head cocked to one side, emerald eyes shining brightly, but finally, he snuggles into the wizard's side and lays his head on his chest. Severus can observe the other's breathing gradually evening out within the next few minutes, and a short while later, he puts his book on the bedside table and extinguishes the light with a whispered "Nox". 

  
  


_'I better follow his example and take all the rest I can get. I have the feeling I am going to need it tomorrow...'_

  
  


  
  


o:*:o:*:o:*:o:*:o:*:o:*:o:*:o

  
  


A/N:

... ...!!!

*speechless with joy*

  
  


I... wow, ...I mean, WOW!!!

  
  


THANX FOR YOUR REVIEWS!!!

  
  


It's absolutely fabulous to get such a great feedback!

If I didn't have to work on my thesis, I would really love to update more often, but as it is I think the best I will manage is once or twice a week. Sorry!

Since I started this story just with an idea and decided to wait and see how people like it, I have by now taken the time and sat down to outline the farther progress. As I have several side-pairings that I want to throw in, some of them essential for the plot, it will take some time (chapter-wise) before Harry and Severus will be able to take their relationship to a human-human-level. But don't worry, I plan to make things rather interesting... *grins*

In the next chapter, both will learn to live with each other and get to know each other better, Severus will become a bit more comfortable with his companion and both will slowly start to settle into a routine. But don't expect things to run too smooth... *grins mischievously*

  
  


Now to the individual replies:

  
  


**Chapter 4:**

@ **Gryphnwng **: Thanks. You have a dragon tattoo? Cool! Unfortunately, I'm way too cowardly to get such a thing, but I admire it in others. As to the dragon-type... the race is indeed inspired by several others, mainly by the dragons of a RPG called Kinthara, but I think that was mostly subconscious and it rather created itself while I was writing. Now after having read Kateri1 's review I think the name, Dragons of Twilight, is actually the title of one of the DragonLance books. I wasn't aware of it before and apologize for the coincidence.

@ **athenakitty**: Yes to all your questions except the last one, I think the answer to that was in the last chapter.

@ **Cassa-Andra**: Oh, I love challenges! *grins* Anyway, thanks for your kind words and the yummy cake! You know, bribery can get you anywhere... *winks* To Severus' and Harry's reaction when Harry turns back, I can promise you that it will be quite awkward. I will provide them with a period in which they can already communicate though Harry will still be in dragon-form to help them deal with it, but it's not going to be easy for them. After all, until they stand face to face both of them can still pretend that the other is not the person they used to know, and while that is entirely right on a completely different level, neither of them will realize it until later. As for the slash, it will come, but as I said, if you want something that goes much further than 'and they proceed to the sleeping chamber and loose themselves in their passionate love for the rest of the night', I fear one of my dear readers will have to volunteer to write it. Sorry. PS: Did I mention that I love your reviews? *smiles*

@ **Andromeda's kitty**: Yes, there is, but only for those who were still alive when they entered the 'zone', and yes, they will try. I happen to like Sirius and will only be happy when he is back again.

@ **The Goddess Artemis**: Hope you got some some answers in the last chapter. News about Ron and Hermione will have to wait until later chapters when Rookwood wakes up, I fear.

@ **Fireangle** : *giggles* You have the most funny ideas, do you know that? I take it you would like me to work it into the plot? No prob. *grins* Poor Mrs. Norris, though...

  
  


**Chapter 5:**

@ **Corgi1**: Very observant of you. Certainly more than Minerva gives him credit for...

@ **athenakitty**: Yes, he will continue to have the occasional dream, and will remember them later, when he is told an information that... will trigger the memories. - Sure Aenëus is fascinated by his wings, wouldn't you if you suddenly had some? *grins* - And yes, he giggled, he's a child at the moment after all. - No, Severus has not been sleeping well, that's why Poppy points out that with Aenëus at his side, he slept better than the last few weeks. - It worked, didn't it? *winks* - Yes, he still doesn't react well to threatening tones or motions. - Minerva did the spell from PoA when they forced Pettigrew to change back. - Yes, it failed. - Yep. - Hey, I needed to have a reason to put them together and poor Severus was naïve enough to save him, so now he's stuck with him. - And yes to your last two questions.

@ **Kateri1**: *blinks* You know, you're right. I wasn't aware of the parallels, but now that you mention it... There are, of course, great differences, for example the origin of the race, the reason why it was believed to be extinct, and most important the relationship between wizards and dragons, that is if I remember the books correctly. They are a great read, by the way, so I wish you much fun with them. I really liked the story and the characters, especially Raistlin.

@ **Amarantha Liriel** : You found a sensitive spot there, I fear. I have to admit that I had a rather vague image of his size myself, so I sat down and puzzled it out. The email with the picture should be in your mailbox by now, I hope you can open it without problems. **For the others, Aenëus has a shoulder-height of about 76 cm, that's approximately two and a half feet, a body length of about 87 cm aka three feet and a wing span of about 460 cm, that's about five feet.** So I guess he indeed doesn't fit on Severus' lap completely, just imagine that the main parts of him are where I describe it. Good thing Severus has so large robes... *winks* Thanks for mentioning it, Amarantha Liriel !!!

@ **t.a.g.0**: *grins* Yes, that was indeed foresight. I couldn't resist Mr No-Silly-Wand-Weaving and Mr Divination-Is-Crap to have some dreams about the future. It is meant to help him later, when he discovers more about what kind of dragon Harry is and what that will mean for their relationship. 

@**Prophetess Of Hearts**: *chuckles* Oh, but he will not be the only one, just the first... There is still much to come... especially for one of my side-pairings!

@ **Cassa-Andra**: THANX!!! *blushes* Your reviews always make my day! Thanks for the candy! *sighs happily*

@ **sirius28**: Sure. Hope it worked.

@ **sherdelune**: Thanks, though I would like to say a few words about the OOCness. I think the only clues that we get about a person's character in the books are from Harry's point of view. Thus the setting is that of a schoolboy interacting with his classmates and teachers with hardly any information at all about their private thoughts and motives. The interactions portrayed in this story so far are those of Severus as a person with a young dragon, namely Aenëus, and with his colleagues in the absence of students, neither of which are described in the original books. Since I think that the teachers will surely behave less formal among themselves, and Severus has not decided yet which of his roles to assume in front of Aenëus, I don't know if his behaviour can really be considered OOC until now. Not that I would be offended if it could, because as I said in the AN in chapter 3 there IS a deeper reason to it and it will be revealed sometime in the future. Until then, I try to portray Severus as a bitter, withdrawn man, who has learned very early in his life that trusting is dangerous and affection only leads to pain and makes you vulnerable to others. If you let no one get close to you, you cannot be hurt by what they do or say or by loosing them. That is one of the reasons why I made Harry change into Aenëus, he is small, young, vulnerable and trusting, so he poses no threat to Severus' feelings. By seeing himself in his little companion, he will slowly, step by step, start to question his beliefs and when he finds that the more he risks, the more he wins, Severus will finally get braver and hopefully find love and happiness in the end.

  
  


And thanks for the encouragement to:

SHINIGAMI_WINGS , lovelydarkness , sherdelune , ShaeLynn , Keira , Professor Farfie , angel of darkness 4585 , angel-phobia , Agatha , sirius28 , Cassa-Andra , Prophetess Of Hearts , t.a.g.0 , FallenPhoenix721 , Kally , Myrradin , ',' , Arwen Rayne , samson , DaughterofDeath , penny , Amarantha Liriel , Kateri1 , athenakitty , ennui deMorte , Corgi1 , wild cat , selua , Felion , Meamz , Jade Fire1 , Fireangle , Rollie , The Goddess Artemis , Andromeda's kitty , Infinity Serenity , unsigned , Lady of Arundel , Creamy Mimi and Gryphnwng !!!

Phew, I just hope I forgot nobody. 

As always, you keep me going!

  
  


I'd love to hear more from you!

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  



	7. Beginnings

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 07: Beginnings

  
  


At exactly twenty-three minutes past nine, Severus and Aenëus are standing in the Potions Master's chambers in the dungeons. The tall Slytherin with equal parts of relief to have escaped the clutches of the over-protective Nurse, and apprehension of what his ...guest might do to his precious rooms, while the little dragon stays close to his wizard's side, eyeing everything with big, emerald eyes that hold both fascination and fear, curiosity and wariness. 

  
  


It really is cold in the dungeons, even during summer time, and a cosy fire is flickering under an elaborately carved mantelpiece to rise the temperature to a pleasant level. The shine of the flames is dancing on the dark wood of the carved furniture that take up the pattern of the fireplace, and makes the Slytherin green carpets that decorate the floor and some of the rough stone walls look strangely soft and comfortable. Two large, overstuffed armchairs stand facing the fire, and two matching sofas surround a low, wooden table with a book and several magazines lying on top of it. Most of the walls are occupied by floor to ceiling bookshelves, the books neatly organized after subjects and authors, while the more ancient and valuable, or simply dangerous tomes are locked away safely in one of several bookcases. 

  
  


On the far side of the room, opposite the fireplace, where the door to the entrance hall is, another door leads into a very professional potions lab, pedantically clean and carefully put in order. Adjourned to the lab is another heavily warded room, that is kept locked all the time and has a distinct feeling of 'Do Not Enter!!!' about it. From the warded room, a short corridor that apparently runs parallel to the living-room leads directly to the master bedroom, with two doors on the side bordering at the living-room and three on the one facing away from it. The two doors open to the kitchen and the bathroom respectively, the latter adjacent to the master bedroom, while the three others lead to the dining-room next to the warded room, a guest bedroom in the middle and the study next to the master bedroom. 

  
  


As the living-room, the lab, the kitchen and the bathroom have no windows and are magically lit, the other rooms hold a pleasant surprise: They actually have real windows which face the lake and look over the dark blue depths that loom beneath the cliff, reflecting the sunlight so that it illuminates the chambers rather nicely.

  
  


The entire decoration is done in Slytherin colours, green and silver, but somehow it manages to look not only cold and elegant, but kind of ...noble. Several pictures adorn some of the rooms, the majority of them of botany and magical creatures and thus non-talking, except for a painting of three ravens in the living-room who are eyeing the little dragon with almost as much curiosity as he them, and the portrait of Sicarius Snape, an ancient ancestor of his, in his study. 

  
  


Severus rolls his eyes at the dragon's open astonishment.

  
  


_'Why does everyone seem to think that I live in some kind of a torture-chamber? Just because I put those slimy things in my office to scare the students doesn't mean I want to have them in my bedroom.'_

  
  


On their tour through his chambers, he watches his little companion closely, as he has done during their whole journey down to his dungeons, observing his charge's every reaction. According to Poppy, it would be best to give Aenëus a few days to get accustomed to his chambers with only short trips to the library, before taking him to longer walks through the castle, slowly drawing nearer to places that Potter knew and had emotions connected with, like the classrooms, the Great Hall, the Gryffindor Common Room, his Dormitory and the Quidditch Pitch. 

The Potions Master has thought very thoroughly about how to approach the transformed Gryffindor, and decided to treat him like his Slytherins in general, with a few exceptions in regard to his Gryffindor attitude. With several of his students coming from less than loving homes like himself, he has plenty of experience in consoling hurt and rejected teenagers, after all, he isn't Head of Slytherin House for nothing. Although he had started teaching mainly due to a direct order of Albus, he takes his responsibilities rather serious, and while he still detests it strongly, he sees to it that even untalented imbeciles like Neville Longbottom leave the school with enough knowledge of what they can do and what not, so that they wouldn't go and blow up their first own set of rooms in an attempt to brew a simple headache cure. 

  
  


_'Ah well, no use in dwelling on the theories, time to move into action."_

  
  


The ebony-haired man finally clears his throat, making Aenëus jump, before he looks down on his scaled companion and goes into lecturing mode.

  
  


"These are my and - for the time being - your chambers. While I have no hope that they are going to be in the same state when you will eventually be able to change into your human form again and move back into your dormitory, there are a few ground rules to ensure both of us will at least survive that long. As I was told your mental state is supposed to be that of a child at the moment, I will try to keep my words as simple as possible, though I cannot see where this might have posed a decrease in your intellectual capacities."

  
  


He sneers with his usual air of superiority. 

  
  


"First rule: You are not allowed to enter the warded room, my private lab or my study without me. Once you have settled in, you may move around on your own in the other rooms, and later in the castle, but the conditions for that shall be discussed in due time."

  
  


Aenëus blinks and tilts his head to one side, his attention focused on the Potions Master.

  
  


"Second rule: You will not touch any of the items on the shelves, especially not my books. If you want to look at one, point it out to me and I can put a charm on it that will read the text out loud, that is until you remember enough to regain your reading skills."

  
  


His scaled companion blinks again, looks over to the bookshelves, and his eyes begin to sparkle. Relief washes through Severus upon seeing the bright intelligence in his green eyes, lightening them in a way they had lacked when he found him in the Department of Mysteries. Human intellect lingers in the emerald depths, and not just the infantile mind he has displayed the day before, but more. It is nowhere near the gaze of a seventeen-year-old, but it's still a good sign. In fact, it is so encouraging that the Potions Master resolves to take a risk and test something.

  
  


"Third rule: In these chambers, and here alone, I will call you Potter."

  
  


The dragon flinches, and a flash of hope runs through the Slytherin's body.

  
  


"Is something the matter, _Potter_?" he asks softly, watching the other flinch again, and raise his wings in discomfort. "Might it be you prefer to be called something else? _Harry_, for example?"

  
  


Aenëus closes his eyes and moans softly, shaking his head as if to get rid of the name he just heard, slowly backing away from the tall wizard before him.

  
  


"Oh no,"he whispers, "there will be no more running away. It is your choice whether I call you Potter or Harry, but choose you must, and you will!"

  
  


Trembling with distress, the little dragon mewls and whimpers, crouching down and trying to hide himself behind his large wings once again, but Severus is determined no to give in. With cautious motions, he sinks down on his knees in front of Aenëus and gently takes his chin in his hand to make him meet his eyes. Terror blazes in the emerald orbs, and fear and pain, and for a moment, he thinks he notices a spark of recognition, but it is gone before he can be sure.

  
  


"Fourth rule: I will not hurt you. I will not allow any insolence either, but whatever you do, your punishment will never involve physical pain. Do you understand that?"

  
  


The dragon blinks at him, blinks again, and again, and then suddenly he can feel a slight nod of the delicate, yet strong jaw in his grip. 

  
  


"So you _do_ understand what I say."

  
  


Another timid nod.

  
  


"Good." He releases him. "I am still waiting for an answer to my question. You will be Aenëus once we pass the doors to these chambers, but inside I will call you by your real name. So what shall it be? Potter?"

  
  


The dragon flinches again, and drops his gaze, shuddering. When Severus remains silent, he hesitantly lifts his eyes to look back up at him, and shyly shakes his head.

  
  


"Very well, Harry it is. Now was it really that difficult?" he demands gently.

  
  


Aenëus raises his wings again and drops his gaze in what Severus assumes might be embarrassment, but he shakes his head 'no' for an answer.

  
  


"Good." The Slytherin strokes the smooth, golden crest, and the dragon moves forwards until his scaled form is pressed against the warm, black-clad body of the wizard.

  
  


"Rule number five: You will always come straight to me when you are in distress and feel you cannot deal with it on your own," he mutters to his little companion, who has reclaimed his favourite position in Severus' arms with his head tucked under the other's chin.

  
  


Sighing, he finally picks the copper and golden creature up and moves them both to one of the sofas. After depositing Aenëus on the moss-green leather, he goes to one of the bookcases, opens it with a muttered password and takes a large volume bound in black leather out, before returning to the sofa and starting to search for information on age reversal curses. The dragon curls up next to him, and resumes looking around in the living-room. After a while, he rises and twitters questioningly, shooting Severus an uncertain look. The Slytherin gestures for him to go on without raising his eyes from the book.

  
  


"Feel free to explore. Just keep in mind what I told you earlier."

  
  


Chirping an affirmation, Aenëus hops down onto the ground and starts examining the room, staring at the many books in fascination, looking into every niche and corner -which causes several sneezing fits-, burying his paws into the thick green carpets and rolling leisurely onto his back on the lush rug in front of the fire where he is finally lulled into a light slumber by the warmth of the flames.

  
  


He wakes just on time for lunch, and after a hearty meal, wizard and dragon leave the dungeons for a short trip to the library. Aenëus hesitates at the doors, but his fear to be left alone is stronger than his anxiousness, and eventually he follows the tall Slytherin inside. Like before, he stays at Severus' side the whole time, and makes small sounds of distress until they quit the book-filled halls and return to the Potions Master's Chambers. Despite the dragon's obvious discomfort, the Slytherin is rather pleased with his progress and plans to stay in the library for a longer while the next day.

The rest of the day passes in peace with Severus reading and Aenëus playing merrily with the ball the wizard had transfigured for him the previous afternoon. 

Dinner is consumed in silence, and a few hours of further research later, the Slytherin wakes the already dozing dragon and both retreat into his bedroom.

Aenëus is sound asleep when Severus comes out of the bathroom in his grey nightshirt and the Potions Master shakes his head lightly in amusement.

  
  


_'I wonder what is more abstract: A dragon in my sleeping chambers, or the fact that the dragon is Harry Potter.'_

  
  


Then he smirks gloatingly.

  
  


_'Oh, he is going to be **so** mortified when he realizes what he has done! Snuggling with his greasy git of a Potions Master, what a terrifying mental image...'_

  
  


With a satisfied sneer, the Slytherin slips under the covers and extinguishes the light.

And like the last two evenings, sleep comes swiftly and easily.

  
  


  
  


When the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows wakes the ebony-haired wizard, shreds of another dream try to escape his mind before he is completely awake.

_The autumn sun glittering on the blue depths of the lake... A warm, breathing body beneath him... Metallic sparkling scales in a sharp contrast to his black robes... lying lazily on his back, enjoying an unusually warm late harvest day... his dragon's broad back rising and falling under him in a steady rhythm... a feeling of utter contentment and safety... of wholeness..._

  
  


Shaking his head lightly, he tries to grasp the fleeing images, but to no avail. With a shrug, he abandons his efforts and leaves the bed, stumbling drowsily into the bathroom and heading straight for the shower. Once the hot water is pouring down on him, he relaxes again, reaches for his soap and starts to lather his body and hair. He is just about to wash the foam off, when he hears a delighted squeal.

  
  


_'Seems Pot- Aen- uhm, _Harry_ is awake,'_ his still sleep-befuddled brain processes the information.

  
  


Severus moves his head under the jet of water to rinse his hair, and as he comes out from under it, the squeal is heard again.

  
  


_'Strange. That sounded so ...close.'_

  
  


When a splashing noise catches his attention, he frowns, and wipes water and wet hair from his eyes.

  
  


_'That splash... that was not me.'_

  
  


His eyes snap open, and looking down, he finds himself eye to eye with a very wet, copper and golden dragon. Aenëus' scales glisten with the moisture, his emerald eyes are bright with joy, and he shakes himself happily, only succeeding in getting wetter in the process. For a moment, all Severus can do is stare at his charge before the extent of the situation becomes aware to him.

  
  


"POTTER!" he roars. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! NOW!"

  
  


Aenëus screams in fear, and dashes out of the bathroom faster than a Snitch. The Slytherin stares after him in fury for a long moment, before he realizes what he has just done, and groans.

  
  


_'Oh, damn, damn, DAMN!'_

  
  


Turning off the water, he grabs his wand and murmurs a quick drying charm under his breath, before grabbing a bathrobe and leaving the bathroom to look for his companion. Fortunately, the trail of water Aenëus has left shows him where to go and leads straight to his bedroom. On the first look, however, he can see no sign of his charge, so he looks under the blankets and even glances under the bed before he notes that the door of his wardrobe is slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, he opens it a bit further and peers in. There, hidden in the darkness under some of his robes, is the little dragon, shaking violently with fear.

  
  


"Harry?" Severus says softly, and opens the door wide enough that a small streak of light falls in.

  
  


The dragon freezes for a moment in fright like the proverbial deer in the headlights, before he moans in distress, and scampers further into the darkness, crawling deeper under the robes in a futile attempt to hide in the restricted space. The Slytherin sighs deeply and reaches slowly for his upset companion, but Aenëus only shrieks in fear when he feels the hand on his back and tries frantically to get away. Seeing as there is no chance of escape, and with Severus looming in the half-open door, his face unreadable against the bright light of the room behind him, the terrified dragon panics, drawing himself up from his crouching position, wings spread as wide as the wardrobe would allow, crest erect, green eyes glowing with feral horror, he hisses, bares his fangs, and pounces upon the bewildered Potions Master. Severus, totally unprepared for the unexpected outburst of aggression, loses his balance, and lands on his bottom, while Aenëus dashes out of the wardrobe and under the bed, where he hides in the darkest corner, whimpering pitifully.

  
  


_'Well, done, old boy, really well done,'_ the Slytherin thinks sarcastically. _'I wonder if anybody could have fucked that up any more than I just did.'_

  
  


Deciding to abandon any semblance of dignity for the moment, as they were alone and it was a case of need, he squats to the ground at the side of the bed and searches for the little dragon in the shadows, after charming the bedroom door shut, of course. Terror- filled emerald orbs gaze back at him from the far end of the bed, absolutely out of reach, and he heaves another sigh. Seems like he would have to talk him out of there.

  
  


"Harry?" he calls again, tentatively, only to see the green eyes close, and receives another pain-filled moan in reply.

"Aenëus?" he asks, very softly. A plaintive whine answers him.

"Look, I apologize for shouting at you," he begins in his deep, silken tones, letting his voice wash over the scared dragon. "Even if you did intrude upon my privacy, my violent reaction was uncalled for, in face of your current mental state. I admit that you caught me off guard and your former status as my student made me overreact. I honestly regret my lack of self-control and will try to ensure that it will not happen again." 

He pauses briefly, allowing a bit of humour to creep into his words. "Now would you kindly come out from under the bed? I am about to get a crick in my neck."

  
  


Aenëus blinks, and even with the lack of light, the Potions Master can tell that he's shaking again. 

  
  


"It's alright," Severus says gently. "Rule number four, remember? I tend to stick to my own rules, and while we are at it, I would strongly advise you to make use of number five sometime soon, seeing as you are obviously too upset to deal with your distress on your own at the moment."

He backs a bit away, sits up and spreads his arms invitingly.

"Come out, little one. I will not hurt you, I promise."

  
  


For a few minutes, nothing happens, and the Slytherin is just starting to think of another approach to the problem, when all of a sudden, his arms are full of trembling, whining dragon, and he folds his little charge into his robes without a second thought. After a while of cuddling (although the Potions Master wouldn't call it that even under the threat of torture), sweet whispered nothings, and a great deal of calming down on both sides, Severus looks down on his little companion, and asks softly: "Are you feeling better now?"

Aenëus nods shyly, and tucks his head into the crook of the wizard's neck.

"Do you feel up to go and find out what the House-Elves have prepared us for breakfast, then?"

Another timid nod.

"Very well. Do you mind if I change into my usual attire before we move to the living-room? Even though I have heard of the rumours that some wizards like to wear almost nothing under their robes, let me assure you that I do not belong to that ... extraordinary circle, and very much prefer to be clothed properly." 

The dragon sighs, and rather reluctantly leaves the warmth of the other's arms to hop onto the bed and crawl under the blankets, warbling his consent.

Severus graces him with a half-smile and a nod, and leaves for the bathroom.

  
  


Half an hour later, both of them are not-cuddling on the sofa with full stomachs, Aenëus sprawled over Severus' lap, playing with the buttons on his black outer robes while the Slytherin is scanning the papers. He finally puts them down with a snort, and the dragon looks up at him questioningly.

  
  


"It appears that this time, the Ministry's habit of withholding important information might work out in our favour. They waited two days for something they could put on the front page, so that their little note about the Death Eater Raid in the Department of Mysteries would go unnoticed on a page in the back. Even in the Quibbler there is only a small article, but at least they added pictures of the missing persons."

  
  


He cocks an eyebrow at his companion, who lifted his head and seems to be trying to get a look at the photos the wizard mentioned.

  
  


"Of course, you are not among them. Albus told they Ministry that he sent you into hiding to prevent a mass panic. He also spoke to the Grangers and the Weasleys, but as we do not know what happened ourselves, all he could do was ask for patience."

  
  


The little dragon shows no reaction, and Severus frowns.

  
  


"Harry? Did you listen to what I said?"

  
  


Alarmed by the lack of response, the Potions Master gently lays a hand on the bronze back.

  
  


"Aenëus?"

  
  


The dragon is frozen on the spot, his muscles stiff as granite, motionless like a statue he stares down at the pictures of his friends.

  
  


_'Oh Merlin and Morgana...' _Severus groans inwardly, but at the same time recognizes his chance to learn more about what had happened in the Chamber of Death, and his Slytherin nature urges him to seize the opportunity, so he steels himself and draws his wand.

  
  


"Legilimens."

  
  


_The Department of Mysteries... Every part of his body hurting profusely after numerous beatings and countless curses... Ron and Hermione behind him, the redhead lying in her arms, the after-effects of the Cruciatus he took in her stead making his body twitch slightly... The perverse pleasure and satisfaction in the eyes of the Death Eaters around them... Voldemort's taunting and glee... Pain, so much pain, so hard to stay concious, so impossible a task to even rise to his hands and knees... _

_-Flash-_

_Scarlet eyes burning at him in triumph, he returning the gaze, like looking Death in the eye... No hope left... Nothing left... Just one thing... Gathering all his strength, he channels his magic into the Animagus transformation... _

_Fire around him... And smoke... Run, you fools, run! ... Ron and Hermione vanishing through the Veil... Pain, liquid fire in his veins..._

_-Flash-_

_Another perspective... Looking down from a greater height... Everything is sharper, clearer... Scents are more intense... He can smell fear... And confusion... Powerful muscles move as he lowers his head and half-spreads his wings... But still the pain, so much pain, so little energy left... _

_A curse, tentatively thrown at him... White-hot agony... A deep breath... And fire... So much fire... Flames everywhere... Cries of pain... _

_Then darkness... And nothing more..._

  
  


With a gasp, dragon and wizard jerk out of their trance, and Severus folds Aenëus into his arms, shocked and overwhelmed by the strong feelings that accompanied the memories, and by the other's heart-breaking howling and shaking. When he has regained some semblance of control over his emotions, he starts to rock the little dragon like a child, whispering soothing nonsense into his ear. Slowly, very slowly, Aenëus' howls subside to whines, then to whimpers, until he falls silent. It is then when the wizard finally dares to look his scaled companion into the eyes, fearing to find that Harry has retreated into his infantile state again, but intelligence still shines in the emerald depths, only slightly darkened by confusion and incomprehension. 

  
  


_'So he saw, but doesn't understand. That is most certainly more than I could have hoped for. With time and other memories to help him, he will eventually be able to make the right connections. But for now, we better don't rush it.'_

  
  


"Do you understand what you just saw?" he demands softly.

Aenëus shakes his head slightly.

"Would it be acceptable if we talk about it another time?"

An empathic nod.

"I thought so. But keep in mind that even if it does not feel this way at the moment, those memories belong to you, and it is very important that you recall the rest of what is still hidden in the depths of your mind."

Fear flickers in the dragons eyes, and he tenses in the Slytherin's arms.

"I did not say that it would be easy, or pleasant. But do not worry, you will not have to face your past alone. I will stay by your side. We will do this together, alright?"

Aenëus sighs, and nods reluctantly, melting wearily into his wizard's embrace.

"Very well. Now I think, we earned ourselves a bit of rest. Have you ever heard about the great adventures of Merlin?"

Another shake of the head.

"Then it is about time that you do. Accio 'Merlin's Quests'."

  
  


And after he has arranged his dragon, the book and himself in a comfortable position, he opens the tome and starts to read.

  
  


By early afternoon, Aenëus has recovered enough to regain his natural curiosity, and sets off to explore the other rooms of the chambers. Severus uses the break to grab one of the books he brought from the library and resumes his research. Due to the unexpected delay, he will need more time to go through their contents, and he resolves to defer their return to Pince's realm to the next morning. The afternoon passes quietly, and his work is only interrupted once when Aenëus comes back to the living-room, carrying a stuffed, plush toy dragon. 

  
  


The Potions Master groans. "That's Draco's! Do not tell me my Godson has hidden it in my guest bedroom all the time."

  
  


The real dragon drops the plush one in the Slytherin's lap and chirps questioningly. Severus looks down on the toy, and his lips quirk into a half-smile. He remembers the day he gave it to Draco well, it had been on his second birthday, and he had told him that the dragon would always protect him when he himself couldn't be there. The blond toddler had stared at the green dragon with the silver eyes in awe, then smiled angelically, and thanked his Godfather with a fierce hug. He had called the dragon 'Sev' and taken it with him everywhere, until his father decided that he was too old to carry his toys around. The Potions Master had thought that it had finally been banished to the loft of the manor along with the rest of his toys, but apparently Draco had managed to smuggle it out and hide it here.

A soft nudge at his hand brings him back to the present and a copper and golden dragon looking up at him expectantly.

  
  


"This dragon belongs to my Godson, but as he did not seem to need it in quite a while you may play with it, provided that you take good care of it and do not damage it in any way. It is to be returned to me in the same state that you found it, is that understood?"

  
  


Aenëus twitters a positive answer merrily, snatches the toy and slumps down onto the rug in front of the fireplace, where he plays a bit with it before he curls up around it and dozes off. Severus shakes his head at the sweet picture, the rust-red dragon with the green toy one, and only hopes that no one gets the idea of visiting him while his guest is still with him. The fluffy atmosphere might just give them the shock of their lifes.

  
  


He wakes his little companion for dinner, and after a few more hours of research and playing, they both retire. Aenëus follows his wizard into the master bedroom, and because of the stressful day, Severus allows it, although he had planned to get the other used to sleeping apart from him. But that can wait for another day. One thing still needs to be said, though, and before he puts out the light, he glances sternly at his dragon.

  
  


"Kindly refrain from following me into the shower from now on. You can take a bath tomorrow, if you feel the need for it. Okay?"

  
  


A tired chirp answers him as his little companion snuggles into his side.

  
  


_'Wait! Was that a** twinkle**_ _in his eyes?! I am doomed...'_

  
  


  
  


_:^:_:^:_:^:_:^:_:^:_:^:_:^:_

  
  


A/N:

  
  


THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  
  


You people are fabulous!!!

  
  


And you see, I take to heart what you tell me. Since so many of you wanted to know what happened to Ron and Hermione, I put in the Legilimens-episode, which was not planned in the first place, but hey, improvising is what gets you through life... *grins* Though originally I didn't intend to make this chapter so ...intense. *shrugs*

  
  


Also, I hope I explained the lack of public resonance well enough. Please keep in mind that from chapter two to chapter six only one and a half days have passed (2+3 Friday afternoon, 4+5+6 Saturday). As to Ron's and Hermione's parents, well, Albus has dealt with the Weasleys and the Grangers, and I wanted to keep the focus mainly on Severus and Harry for the moment. Once the students are back, I will have to expand it to include his friends as well, and I see a lot of work coming that way... *sighs* But it will be very important for the plot, so it has to be done.

Furthermore, I just realized this weekend that some of the pairings I have in mind seem to be really rare, so I hope they won't offend anyone. But I promise I won't do anything that is truly revolting. At least I think it isn't... *grins*

  
  


Concerning Severus' rooms: I know it might be a bit confusing, but it's kind of hard to describe the ground-plan I made. (Yes, I actually made one!)

So I'll try to show it again, this time more graphically. Please keep in mind that this doesn't reflect the sizes of the rooms adequately.

  
  


CORRIDOR 

| ENTRANCE HALL | 

POTIONS- LAB | LIVING- ROOM  |

POTIONS- LAB | |  KITCHEN  | BATHROOM  | 

POTIONS- LAB | CORRIDOR | MASTER BEDROOM

WARDED ROOM | DINING-ROOM | GUEST BEDROOM  | STUDY  | MASTER BEDROOM

LAKE

Better? 

I fear it doesn't show up correctly, thanks to ff.net's wonderful formatting, but it should suffice to give you a vague image...

  
  


As to the review responses... Sorry, but in order to finish this chapter in time, I had to skip them. But I thought you'd rather have your new chapter sooner. When I find the time during the next days, I might put up a review response chapter, because to be honest I don't like making my AN at the end so long...

In chapter eight Albus and Minerva return, Severus takes Harry to the places in the castle that he knew, and they are going to have a little fun at the Quidditch Pitch... *winks*

  
  


I'm very much looking forward to your comments!!!

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  



	8. Blossoming Affection

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 08: Blossoming Affection

  
  


A week later, Severus and his little dragon have settled into some kind of a routine. 

Severus usually wakes first, has his morning shower and gets ready to face the day. After having discovered Aenëus' fondness of water, the Slytherin resigned to allow him to play in the filled tub every few days, which often leaves his bathroom with puddles on the floor, and ended with Severus fully clothed in the tub next to his dragon at the first time. 

When both have finished their breakfast, they go to the library, where the Potions Master continues his research and Aenëus explores the halls. By now, the dragon has progressed so much that they are able to stay the whole morning and most of the afternoon, though it took nearly endless patience on Severus' part to get so far. But patience, or rather endurance, is something the Slytherin has learned early on, and it is what makes him a good spy and an outstanding Potions Master, in addition to keeping him alive long enough to become both. He sees what needs to be done, and takes care of it, and that's it. Harry Potter needs to be brought back, and so he tends to the dragon, even after yet another flashback has sent him shaking into his arms. 

He doesn't know how much Aenëus remembers by now, but their form of communication provides him at least with some clues, and he guesses that the main part of the barrier in the other's mind still stands, as the dragon still seems to be unable to accept the memories as his own. Severus hasn't had 'the talk' about it with him yet, because he wants to wait until Aenëus has learned more about his past.

  
  


Albus and Minerva returned four days ago, with little more information than they already had. Aenëus belongs to no dragon race that is mentioned anywhere in written history, and the legend Minerva heard of is not recorded in any of the historical tomes either. 

But they found a very old woman, whose great-great-grandfather used to tell her of an Age of Magic, where the Muggle World and the Wizarding World were still one, and some wizards used their powers to experiment with the genetic Transformation of Muggles, thus producing powerful servants, creatures with the warm loveliness of the Dawn or the cold beauty of the Dusk. But as in all times, there were those who craved power above anything else, and they corrupted parts of their brethren's creations, giving birth to the Dark Races in the process, the trolls, giants, werewolves, vampires and many more. A great war broke out, and ended with the remaining wizards hiding themselves and their world from the Muggles to prevent a repetition of the tragic events, and the non-magical folks in turn forgetting about the magic that once was part of their life.

So far they guess that Aenëus belongs to one of those magically created races, but there is still so much more they don't know. Why the Dark Races survived all the time in almost constant or even increasing numbers, whereas the light creatures were always so very few, for example. Or why a creature like Aenëus didn't manifest before, and why it does now. So Albus sent discreet messages to people he knows, and since most owe him the one or other favour anyway, they were only too happy to help. But none of them has ever heard of the legends, and their libraries hold no information of the times that precede the Founders.

  
  


The Headmaster has told the Order the same as the Ministry, that he had sent Harry away to protect him after the attack, and Severus wonders if Albus suspects a leak. But with the Dark Lord's apparent inactivity, they have no hints as to whether he has managed to acquire a spy in their ranks or not. 

The Weasleys are crushed by the loss of their youngest son, even though there might be the chance, however unlikely, that he will come back somehow. Minerva told Severus when she came back from the latest Order meeting that the young Weasley girl and the Longbottom boy must have put one and one together in a rare outburst of intelligence and deduced what had to have happened in the Department of Mysteries, and that they are now practically living in the Blacks' library and seem to go through every book in there to find a way to bring their friends back. 

Typical heroic Gryffindors, but then, maybe they do find something useful and at least they don't go and wallow in self-pity, or try to get themselves killed like Lupin, who has taken to volunteer for the most dangerous missions despite Albus' gentle reprimands that they would need their DADA teacher alive and in one piece at the beginning of the new term. Oh yes, Lupin had taken to the events in the Chamber of Death very badly, both times, and seems to feel responsible somehow for what happened at the second time. Severus would like to get a chance to talk with him, but he still can't leave Aenëus alone. Although his demeanour towards others has softened somewhat, he suffers greatly under the Slytherin's absence, even if it is only for a short time, and he is just not stable enough yet for a meeting with Lupin. But perhaps in a week, if he continues to progress so nicely... Well, he will have to talk to Albus about it.

  
  


Severus still growls and sneers and snaps a lot when others are around them, but Aenëus seems to know the difference to real anger, and got used to it somehow during the last few days. The Slytherin would never admit it, but by now he finds the dragon's presence strangely calming and reassuring, which is absolutely paradox, since he can't remember having had such a trying everyday life since his student days. And it doesn't help either that Albus told him he looked better than in years and Poppy pointed out smugly that regular meals and a healthy amount of sleep could do that to a man. Minerva, ever the wise, kept her comment to herself and just smiled knowingly. Sometimes he is sorely tempted to strangle his colleagues. 

  
  


  
  


Today, the Potions Master has decided to try his luck with taking Aenëus to the classroom of one of Harry's more uneventful subjects, and remembering his own school days, and the dull droning of Professor Binns, he finally settles on History of Magic. He plans to spend a few hours in the library first, to leave Aenëus a part of his everyday routine, and pass by the History of Magic classroom after lunch.

They are about half-way to the dungeons where they still have all their meals, when Severus realizes that he forgot his wand in the library, along with his quill, ink, parchment and notes, in the wake of Aenëus' latest flashback episode. Scowling, he turns to his dragon.

"I just noticed that I left something behind that I need to retrieve. As I assume you are familiar enough with the way to our quarters by now, I suggest you go on and wait for me there. I should not take long, maybe I will even be able to catch up with you."

His little companion twitters what Severus has learned to identify as his 'alright' sound, and starts to hop down the next flight of stairs. The Slytherin frowns, and waits until the other is out of sight, to make sure that his charge does indeed disappear into the right direction, before he turns and heads back to the library, groaning inwardly. It is really time for Potter to get better again, because no matter what Albus, Minerva and Poppy say, the company of the dragon is not good for him. Leaving his wand behind like that, and just because of a brat in distress... No, it is definitely time to put a bit more distance between Aenëus and him, before his emotions succeed in making him any more careless.

  
  


Fifteen minutes later, the Potions Master storms towards the dungeons, cursing Mrs Norris deftly under his breath.

_'Stealing and hiding my wand... When I get my hands on that bloody cat, Filch will be lucky if there is enough of her left to make a handbag of her fur!'_

Seething, he quickens his pace, hoping that his dragon would be alright and didn't get any feather-brained ideas while he was waiting, as he has shown an increased inclination to over the past few days at the same rate that his self-consciousness has been overcome. Apparently Potter's cheeky nature has already returned, even if the majority of his memories didn't.

Upon turning around the last bend, it becomes obvious that his hopes were in vain, since there is no little dragon waiting for him in the corridor in front of his chambers and this time, he curses out loud. Creatively and colourfully. After he has calmed down a bit, he growls, and activates the locator spell he put on Aenëus in the wise anticipation that it might soon come in handy. When he realizes where the spell points him, however, he lets out another stream of obscenities.

  
  


_'Of course the annoying little twerp has nothing better to do than run off to my classroom! This is most certainly not the way I intended his recovery to proceed!'_

  
  


Several flights of stairs and some corridors later, a worried Severus arrives at the door to his potions classroom, slightly out of breath. Suspecting the worst, he prepares himself inwardly for an either howling, hysterical or a catatonic dragon, but when he enters the dimly lit room, he finds Aenëus sitting on Potter's workplace, gazing around the room in deep contemplation. For a moment, relief washes through him, but it is quickly overcome by white-hot anger.

_'How dare the impudent brat ignore my orders like that!'_

  
  


"And what exactly do you think you are doing here?" he hisses menacingly.

Aenëus jumps and flinches, looking up at him with wide, emerald eyes.

"Have my orders been too difficult to understand?" he asks softly.

A shake of the head.

"Did you get lost on the way to our quarters?"

Another shake of the head.

Silence.

"Then may I ask why you are in the potions classroom, which, I might add, is not even remotely in the direction of where you are supposed to be, instead of simply doing what I told you?" he snarls, his dark eyes gleaming with rage.

Silence.

"So at least in this you are back to your old self then. While everybody is out to keep famous Harry Potter safe and hidden from the Dark Lord, famous Harry Potter has no need to abide by the rules. No, famous Harry Potter makes his own rules, just let the rest of the world worry about his safety! Why should famous Harry Potter bother to stop and think about the consequences of his actions, when he has a whole bunch of Gryffindor friends who are just too happy to follow him into disaster and save his sorry little hide?"

Green eyes darken, and Aenëus flinches, but the copper and golden dragon still makes no sound.

"Damn it, Potter, when will it finally get through that thick skull of yours that what other people tell you might actually be the best for not only you, but also those around you?! How many more will have to die before you finally accept that others might know a situation better than you?! When will you finally start to _listen_?!" 

Severus turns on his heel, to try and calm down a bit, and so he misses that the dragon has started to tremble, and his emerald eyes are glittering strangely.

"How uncannily like your father you are, always thinking the world evolves around you. But let me tell you that it does not. Others are out there, risking their lives for you, or having already sacrificed them, and the least you could do is make sure that it wasn't in vain."

He pauses briefly.

"People are always so quick to talk about Gryffindor courage and nobility, but being brave doesn't necessarily mean to stand in the front line in a battle, and being noble demands to respect the value of other people's efforts. So far I have seen very little of either of them in you."

Aenëus finally makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a whimper and a choke, and the Potions Master turns back to his charge to find the little dragon shaking badly, and when he looks into the dark green eyes, the raw agony in them shatters any remnants of his anger, and stabs like a dagger into his heart. Too old those eyes are, too much pain they have seen, and when the heavy guilt and the self-loathing in them eventually let Severus move again, he hurries to his dragon's side, folding the shaking figure into his robes.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

It is this one word that breaks the dam, and Aenëus finally starts moaning, whining and wailing, pressing himself against the body of his wizard who just holds him and mutters "I'm sorry" over and over.

  
  


A long time later, the dragon lies silent in Severus' arms, and the black-clad Slytherin is stroking the smooth scales softly.

"I really am sorry, you know," he finally says in a low voice. "I had no right to say what I did. All these years, burdens that an adult wizard would have found hard to bear have been placed upon your shoulders, and you rose to every challenge and managed to come out of them more successful than anyone could have asked for. And every time, you only tried to protect those around you, regardless of the danger to yourself. What happened to your godfather and your friends is not your fault, never let anyone tell you that. If there is anybody to blame then it is Voldemort."

He looks down into troubled emerald eyes.

"I think it may be I who failed to see the true problem. You are so much of a Gryffindor that we all tend to forget that after everything that happened, you are but a child, who never was allowed to be. I think the greatest mistake we made was letting the Wizarding World make you straight into the Boy-Who-Lived, the saviour, the wonder-boy, when all you were was an unloved child that wanted nothing more than to be granted the same life as any child your age."

He tightens the embrace for a moment.

"I am truly sorry."

  
  


They spend the rest of the day in relative peace, and after dinner, Severus reads Merlin's adventures to his dragon again.

  
  


  
  


After the potions classroom, the visits to the other classrooms are monotonously uneventful. The wizard and his dragon would enter, Aenëus would wander around a bit, finally jump onto the table where Harry Potter used to sit during his school days, and gaze around the room in silent reverie. When he is done, he would go to Severus and make a pleading sound, not really a whine, but close to it, and they would leave the room and return to the dungeons. The little dragon would always hurry, and only relax when they are on his favourite sofa again, he in the strong arms of his wizard, the fire crackling comfortingly in the background. Aenëus is always tired after those visits, worn out by remembering, confusion and fear, and it never takes long for him to fall into a light slumber, his body on the sofa next to the Potions Master, his head on his wizard's lap, and Severus would sigh, pick up the book he is currently reading, and continue his research until dinner time. 

After dinner, the Slytherin would read to him, or tell him stories from his own teenage years at Hogwarts, about the professors, the other students, the Marauders and Harry's parents, and not just the mean pranks they played on him, but everything that comes into his mind. Of course, he only does it to make up for his outburst in the potions classroom, and because it will surely help the boy to accept his memories faster, or so Severus tells himself. 

Their evening talks soon become a daily rite, and the Potions Master eventually finds that it is in fact quite nice to have company on these lonely summer evenings when the school is almost empty, with Minerva, Albus, and even Poppy occasionally away on Order business, or simply visiting their families. Naturally, he wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, and would call the loneliness 'peace', and Aenëus' presence 'an unwelcome burden', but at the end of the third week, he catches himself toying with the idea of getting himself a familiar when Harry is restored to his human self, a young Occamy perhaps, or a Kneazle, and he shakes his head and decides that he should rather book a room at St. Mungo's then.

  
  


Voldemort summons him two times, but just to have Severus give his report and stock up the Dark Lord's potions stores, and even though he can feel the scarlet eyes follow his every motion, both times he gets away without being submitted to the Cruciatus, something that starts to make him very uneasy, but he accepts his luck as he would have accepted his punishment, without comment. 

He had Minerva look after Aenëus the first time, but they are alone in the castle when the second call comes, and he leaves his dragon only very reluctantly and with great trepidation, and for the first time, he has problems with emptying his mind of all emotion, because the picture of the copper and golden dragon perching tense and trembling on his sofa, with the green plush dragon clutched to his chest and a lost look in his eyes, tries to remain stubbornly in his thoughts. 

  
  


It is from this second, mentally exhausting meeting that he returns, worried and strangely anxious to get back to his little dragon, that he starts talking about his family when both of them are not-cuddling on the sofa after an overly affectionate greeting. In hindsight, he couldn't tell why he did it, perhaps because he never told anyone except Lucius, the Dark Lord and Albus, or because somewhere deep down, he hoped that someone who was willing to hear out the supposed murderer of his parents would know better than to judge him on what he said, or maybe because he just simply needed to talk about it after all this time.

  
  


And so he opens a bottle of Old Odgen's, settles onto the sofa with his dragon on his lap, stares into the fire and starts to speak. 

About his weak, sickly mother whom he has inherited his unhealthy complexion and thin stature from, how she had been soft and gentle and had always tried to protect him when he had been ill so often as a boy, and how her loving efforts only succeeded in getting her beaten and eventually killed by his nasty, abusive bastard of a father. 

About his purist father, who had decided that since his useless wife couldn't give him another heir, the one he had would need to toughen up, and who had taken it upon himself to ensure that he did. 

About the beatings, the potions, the curses, the Unforgivables, and the rest he even now cannot talk about.

How he had taken to make himself repulsive, both in appearance and demeanour, to keep his father at bay, and to make sure that nobody would like him and suffer his poor mother's fate.

How he had yearned to start Hogwarts, how he had hoped that somehow, it would get better, that he would finally find a home, and how the hostility and the ridicule of the Gryffindors together with the relative poorness his father's unhealthy tastes had brought upon the family had taught him better. 

How it was Lucius who eventually took him under his wing, who found him a place in Slytherin House, who let him stay with him during the holidays whenever their fathers would permit it. About the arrogance of his pure-blood sire, who didn't approve of the Malfoy's connections to the half-blood Dark Lord and how he finally followed Lucius' example and took the Dark Mark the day after he graduated from Hogwarts.

How he finally killed his father, slowly, deliberately, with the Dark Lord smiling approvingly down at him when he was done.

And how it hadn't changed a thing, how he could still feel the shame and the guilt and the helplessness, how he still felt dirty and tainted and used even after all these years.

  
  


And all the time, Aenëus stays at his side, listening silently until Severus stops talking and just continues to stare into the fire with glazy eyes. Then he carefully takes the sleeve of the black robe between his teeth and gently leads his wizard into the bedroom, where the Potions Master undresses mechanically, and climbs into the bed. Only when he is safely tucked in does the little dragon slip into his arms, purring softly, trying to comfort. And Severus embraces him tightly, and doesn't let go the whole night.

  
  


  
  


In the morning, the Potions Master is bad-tempered and hung-over, and greatly embarrassed for letting himself go like that, especially since he can't recall exactly how much he had told his little companion. So he returns to his curt, cold teacher attitude and keeps his distance from Aenëus during the day. There is no evening talk this night, and when it is time for bed, Severus tells the dragon that it is time for him to start sleeping in his own room again, since Aenëus would have to learn to do so anyway, and he had been sharing his bed long enough now, thank you very much.

The dragon stares at him in confusion for a long moment, before something seems to die in his eyes, and he vanishes into the guest bedroom without further protest. The Slytherin looks at the empty door-frame for a full minute after Aenëus has left, and wonders what it might be that suddenly makes his ribcage so tight, and the centre of his chest ache, but he eventually swallows the lump in his throat and goes into his own bedroom, firmly quenching every thought about how his bed seems strangely cold and empty without his companion.

  
  


It is about midnight, when muffled, pain-filled cries wake him from an uneasy sleep, and after a moment of disorientation in which he reaches for the dragon at his side and finds nothing, Severus jerks fully awake and recalls the events of the previous day. Cursing himself for his thoughtlessness, he rushes out of his sleeping chamber and into the guest bedroom.

Aenëus is cringing into one of the corners of the room, eyes shut tightly, emitting a lost whimper, the kind of sound one makes when he knows that no one would come and help him, the choked cry of defeat of someone who has given up the hope of being rescued, and it cuts straight into Severus' heart.

Within an instant, he is beside his dragon, reaching out to wake him, when suddenly he can feel _something_ reach out on its own, and the room vanishes around him.

  
  


_A big, beefy man with an enormous moustache is towering over him, his face contorted with rage... a large hand grabbing him at the throat... spittle on his cheek as the man shouts at him, literally spitting insults into his face... his lungs burning with the lack of air... then the sudden release as he is thrown across the room, and the fiery pain that explodes in his flank where his side hits the hard desk... the man baring his teeth at him while a vein is throbbing in his temple, and his stinking breath washing over him, telling of too many drinks in the pub... more pain, as the large, purple fist connects with his frail body, again and again and again and again... _

_his own ragged breathing, unnaturally loud in the silence when he is finally alone in the darkness... _

_alone, alone, always alone... _

  
  


"_NO!"_

  
  


With a hoarse cry, Severus jerks both of them out of the dream, and he draws the dragon into his arms before Aenëus has the chance to panic, and they remain like that for a long time, crying in each other's embrace, each in his own way, both for an innocence lost that nobody had the right to take away from them.

Much later, the Slytherin picks his dragon up and they return to the large bed in the main sleeping chambers. No word is spoken the whole time, but then, there are no words that need to be said between the two of them right now. 

The rest of the night is passed in peace, and in the silent knowledge that other than in the past, each has someone who will come for him now. And that is enough for them at the moment.

  
  


  
  


The next day dawns brightly, and seeing the fine weather, Severus decides to take both of their minds off things a bit and let Aenëus stretch his wings on the Quidditch Pitch later. Breakfast isn't nearly half as awkward as the Slytherin feared it to be, and a fragile balance seems to have established now that they know that the other understands their problems better than either would have expected. Severus is still ashamed that he didn't think of the traumatizing consequences that the talk about his family and his pushing the dragon away the day before were prone to have on his little companion, but Aenëus is already back to his old self, twittering and chirping and bustling around.

_'Silly little Gryffindor,'_ the Potions Master thinks, but it is a warm thought, as he glances fondly down at the wet dragon in his tub.

  
  


After another morning in the library and a light lunch in the dungeons, Aenëus finally leaves the castle with his wizard for the first time in more than three weeks. The Slytherin can't help but smile at the dragon's antics, who makes his overflowing joy at being outside very clear to the world. He bounces around like a kitten, leaping here and there, rolling in the lush grass next to the path, and generally enjoying his life. Severus wonders briefly where the other takes all the energy from, but then he supposes that it really might be a bit dull in the dungeons for a child.

When they arrive at the stands, Aenëus still shows no signs of fatigue, and after a brief hesitation, he follows his wizard up the stairs. Upon stepping out to the rows of seats, however, the dragon stays behind, and remains rooted to the spot until the Slytherin gently picks him up and takes him to the railing.

  
  


The little dragon trembles on his arm, and after a long while, finally looks down onto the field. For a moment, Severus fears that he might slip into another flashback, but suddenly Aenëus wriggles out of his arms, and hops onto the railing, his muscles tense and his emerald eyes wide. The Slytherin is just about to step behind him and get a hold on him, when his dragon looks directly into the sun for a second, spreads his wings, and launches into the air with a challenging cry that resembles none of the sounds he has uttered so far, but reminds Severus strangely of the cry of a phoenix. 

Wand at the ready, the Potions Master's gaze follows his dragon as he dives down into the pitch, drawing closer to the ground at a neck-breaking speed, and only pulls up when Severus almost casts Wingardium Leviosa on him. The next two hundred and forty minutes are among the most exciting, but also most mesmerizing hours in the Potions Master's life.

  
  


Aenëus' flight is incredible. There is no hesitation in his motions, no fear, only joy and freedom, and an ethereal grace the Slytherin has never seen before. The sun glitters brightly on the dragon's metallic shining scales, and in some poses it makes him look like a figure of liquid fire, all golden and red and copper, climbing into the air like a living flame, higher and higher, until he is only a shadow before the sun, and it seems to Severus as if the dragon and the celestial body are but one. 

Tears are running down his face, and they are not caused by looking into the bright light, but he doesn't notice. His eyes are firmly set on his dragon, who is still performing his glorious dance with the winds, his blazing reverence of life, his passionate celebration of freedom. 

Severus' heart aches with sudden longing, with the yearning to be part of this, to share this experience of liberation, so much that the pain becomes almost unbearable, and without warning, like in the last night, he can feel something reach out and touch his mind, and then everything is lost in the sheer exhilaration of flight.

Later, much later, he comes back to his senses to find himself still in the same position in which he had watched his dragon fly, with Aenëus perched next to him on the railing, concern in his green eyes. His companion makes a worried sound when the Slytherin finally shakes his head lightly as if to clear it, and Severus looks at him with a disconcerted expression, the intoxication of his flying experience still fresh in mind.

  
  


"What the hell was that?" he asks hoarsely, yet not overly brightly.

  
  


Aenëus twitters uncertainly, shifting his weight from one front paw to the other like he always does when he is unsure, before inching closer and repeating the worried sound. Severus takes a deep breath and steps back from the railing, swaying a bit from disorientation, but it lasts only a moment. His dragon follows his movements with a concerned gaze, and the Potions Master rolls his eyes.

  
  


"Don't worry, I'm alright," he snarls. "Though I would greatly appreciate it if you could at least give me some kind of warning the next time before you mess around with my mind."

  
  


Guilt and confusion in the emerald depths, Aenëus jumps onto a seat next to him, and whines pathetically. Severus snorts, rolling his stiff shoulders.

  
  


"Let me guess: You have no idea what you just did."

  
  


The dragon barks an affirmation.

  
  


"Consequently, I take it that you also have no concept of how to control it."

  
  


Another bark.

  
  


"Wonderful," the Slytherin sneers sarcastically, "having my thoughts snatched away to a dragon who is high on being able to fly is just the thing I needed for my next Death Eater meeting. I am certain the Dark Lord will enjoy the experience, once he decides to join it with his Legilimency. Perhaps he will even like it so much that he grants me the favour of a quick death before he comes to get you."

  
  


Whimpering, Aenëus raises his wings and lowers his head, clearly unhappy. It somehow gives Severus a twinge in his heart, and he sighs, and sits down next to his dragon, wincing as his stiff back muscles protest against the movement. Looking down on his upset companion, he takes the smooth scaled chin into his hand and lifts it so that the green eyes meet his.

  
  


"Will you promise me that you will not go out and fly while I am at the meetings? That you will stay in our chambers and do nothing that might provoke a flashback while I am away?"

  
  


His dragon nods, and chirps eagerly, and the Slytherin releases his chin.

  
  


"Then I see no immediate life-threatening problem with this new ...ability of yours. Of course, you will have to learn how to restrain it as soon as possible. I do not particularly fancy having anyone meddle with my mind, especially not without my consent. Did I make myself clear?"

  
  


Another nod and chirp answers him, and after a brief hesitation, Aenëus scuttles over and presses his body against the Potions Master's. Severus heaves another deep sigh.

  
  


"Why do I have the feeling that you will be the death of me one day, you intolerable brat?" he mutters crankily, to conceal his still shaken emotions.

  
  


Aenëus whines pitifully, and licks his wizard's cheek. The Slytherin freezes at the affectionate gesture, and his chest tightens inexplicably. The dragon seems to take his inactivity for a permission to continue, and so he proceeds to lick away the salty trail of dried tears tenderly, until Severus snaps out of his trance and pushes the scaled muzzle away, much less roughly than he intended to.

  
  


"My, I knew that flying raises the appetite, but I would never have guessed that it could make you _that_ desperate," he sneers, but only half-heartedly.

  
  


Huffing, his dragon buries his copper and golden head into the crook of Severus' neck, and snuggles into the dark-haired wizard, contentedly absorbing the warmth of his black robes after the chill of the height. The Slytherin sighs yet again, and lets his arms circle around his little friend. They stay like that for a long time, enjoying the way the sun caresses their bodies, and watch the sunset together.

  
  


  
  


Back in their chambers, Severus groans in pain as he rises from the sofa after dinner. His back is hurting profusely, the muscles stiff and tense after the long standing and sitting at the Quidditch Pitch. Aenëus shoots him a worried glance and chirps questioningly, but the Slytherin clenches his teeth and ignores the other's concern. 

  
  


_'Oh no, my friend,'_ he thinks sourly, _'despite your better efforts today I still have some dignity left, and I will do the devil and surrender the rest of it. It's not as if you could help me anyway.'_

  
  


Aloud, he just says: "I am going to retire now, and seeing as it has been a long day, I suggest you do the same."

  
  


Aenëus twitters good-naturedly, hops down from the sofa and bustles into the bedroom. The master bedroom.

  
  


_'Ah well, I might as well allow him to sleep there. I rather doubt I would be up to another nightmare, so it may be better just to turn a blind eye to his presence tonight. I can still tell him to sleep in his room tomorrow.'_

  
  


Unlike usually, his dragon is not already asleep when he comes out of the bathroom, and Severus raises an eyebrow at his lying on the wizard's side of the bed. Aenëus just chirps, and scuttles over to the other side, as the Potions Master puts out the light and crawls stiffly under the cover, grunting when his muscles protest violently. The second thing he notices is that his part of the bed is comfortably warm, and he turns onto his stomach with a sigh, to let his sore back be soothed by the lingering body warmth of his dragon in the blanket. He has just relaxed a bit, when he becomes aware of the third thing that is different that night, and he tenses at first at the feeling of warm paws on his shoulders. The touch, however, stays, and the rhythmical flexing of the paws, like that of a contented kitten while it is suckling at its mother's side, soon has his muscles loosened and relaxed. The feeling of a light weight settling on his back, together with a most comfortable warmth soaking through the blanket and the deep vibration of Aenëus' purring finally lull him into sleep.

  
  


The next day, Severus takes his dragon into the Great Hall for lunch. They are alone, since Severus has asked the others to stay away that day, planning to let Aenëus reacquaint himself with the room before he would see any persons in it. The hall seems strangely empty, as it always does during the holidays, and the Slytherin wonders how they are going to handle things when term starts again in two and a half weeks.

_'Better let Albus worry about that, I certainly have quite enough at hand already.'_

Like in the classrooms they had visited, Aenëus first wanders among the long rows of banks and tables, looking here and there as if he can see something that escapes Severus' keen eyes, before he finally turns to the Gryffindor table, and reluctantly scrambles to the seat that has most often been occupied by Harry Potter over the last six years. Gazing around, his eyes eventually fall on the places next to him, and he lets out a low wail.

His wizard holds him while he mourns for the friends he has lost, for the memory of two young people whose absence makes the dragon's heart weep, even though he neither knows who they were nor what they meant to him, and so he mourns the loss of himself that only now becomes aware to him for the first time.

  
  


They skip lunch and return to the pitch early, and this time, Severus has a surprise for his friend.

When Aenëus is soaring high through the air, he releases the Golden Snitch that he has brought in his pocket, and watches his dragon hover in one place for a moment, before he dives down and takes after the little winged ball. Five minutes later, he has caught him, in a fantastic turning manoeuvre that makes the Potions Master hold his breath unconsciously. 

The Slytherin and his dragon spend the rest of the afternoon out there, Aenëus chasing after the Snitch and catching him numerous times, and Severus watching him in a strange fascination.

  
  


The remainder of the week passes uneventful.

First their breakfast, then also their lunch, and finally all their meals are taken at the Great Hall, instead of the dungeons. In the beginning, there are just Albus, Minerva and Poppy with them, but at the weekend, the other teachers start to arrive, and Severus has a hard time keeping up his evil-bastard-façade while calming down his excited little dragon friend.

The other teachers are told what Albus decided to make their background story: That Severus is experimenting with conjuring spells at his order, in hope that it might help them to find out more about what happened at the Department of Mysteries. Close enough at the truth, yet at the same time far away enough not to worry. 

But it isn't the teachers the Head of Slytherin is concerned about, for despite the Headmaster's antics, he knows how to choose his staff, even Quirrell did serve a purpose after all, and Severus is positive that there are no other Death Eater among his colleagues. No, it is the students the Potions Master fears, and they still don't know what to do with the dragon once the insolent dunderheads are back.

Well, for now all the comments about how cute his dragon is, and whether he is able to breath fire, and if the spell is very difficult, are enough to keep his scowl firmly in place and make him glare at everybody that dares to so much as bat an eyelid into his direction. The last question, by the way, stemmed from Sybill Trelawney, which got her a nasty smirk and the response that if she wanted to learn the finer arts of blood magic and try to conjure something without a) bleeding to death and b) summoning a demon, she was more than welcome to do so. The shocked Divination professor lost whatever face colour she possessed at once, and bid a hasty retreat with the excuse that her Inner Eye requested her presence at her tower.

The rest of the teachers is easier to handle, except Polaris Sinistra, who, a Slytherin herself, never seems to be intimidated by Severus' foul temper and biting remarks, and tries to inquire further, only to be put off trail by Albus himself. Always having known when a graceful retreat is in order, she admits defeat, but the Potions Master is sure that her curiosity will win over her respect for the Headmaster before long, and thus adds her to the growing list of problems to deal with.

Fortunately, Hagrid is away with Mme Maxime for another week, and the teachers for Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes won't arrive before the next weekend either, so they only have to deal with Professors Flitwick, Hooch, Sinistra, Sprout, Vector and Firenze at the moment, and judging from the look the centaur shoots the little dragon he already knows more than is good for him. Pomona and Rolanda are quite taken with Severus' new familiar, but his obvious shyness towards everyone apart from the Potions Master succeeds in keeping them at bay, while Filius and Aenëus eye each other with an equal wariness that makes the other occupants of the table, as well as Filius himself once he realizes what he is doing, chuckle in amusement.

  
  


Severus and Aenëus spend the remaining days of the week exploring the grounds, avoiding nosy professors, flying at the Quidditch Pitch and continuing to remember and research. The question of Aenëus' sleeping in the guest bedroom remains untouched, and the dragon stays in his wizard's bed without further discussion.

  
  


But it isn't until the teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts returns to the castle that the Potions Master realizes he forgot something.

He wanted to have a talk with Remus Lupin.

Looking down at his dragon, who has gone rigid at his side, staring at the tired werewolf as if he would vanish the moment his eyes leave him, Severus makes his choice.

  
  


_'There's no time like now.'_

  
  


Time for a chat in the dungeons.

  
  


  
  


~:§:~:§:~:§:~:§:~:§:~:§:~:§:~

A/N:

  
  


**THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS!!! **

  
  


THANKS!!! THANKS!!! THANKS!!! THANKS!!! THANKS!!! THANKS!!! THANKS!!! 

*bounces happily trough the room*

I am really touched by all the positive feedback!

  
  


  
  


And since so many of you asked about the progress of the story, I decided to tell you a bit. 

  
  


So beware: **HERE COME SPOILERS!**

I guess the story is going to be about 30 or 35 chapters long. Harry won't turn back until later in the story, chapter 20 or so, but he will regain his memories and find a way to talk telepathically to Severus around chapter 13, and no, he will not make it before school starts, which will be in the next chapter. I am sorry that it's going to take so long, but I need the time to get the two closer to each other and to set up my side pairings, and then I have to let them find out about the Dragons of Twilight and about the way back from behind the Veil, and all the time there's still Voldemort working his way towards taking over the Wizarding World... 

Harry will not remain the only Dragon of Dawn, and yes, there will also be several Dragons of Dusk, but Severus will not be among either. Details about the relationship between the Dragons of Twilight and witches/ wizards will be given among the lines of chapter 18 or so.

The dreams Severus has are not necessarily of the future. A wise being once said: 'Always in motion is the future', and that's what it will be in this story, too. Our dear Potions Master is a person that has been hurt very deeply from rather early on, so he will not be happy about the prospect of starting a relationship with whomever, and is most likely to push Harry away once the other is his older self again. The dreams show him what he _could have_ with Harry, they are meant to get him acquainted with the idea of being happy together with someone, but in the end it will be his choice whether or not he accepts it.

So the first stage of Severus' and Harry's relationship will probably span chapters 2-13, the second stage where they can talk, but Harry is still in dragon form will be chapters 14-21, and from then on, it will be a human-human romance.

**END OF SPOILERS**

  
  


  
  


I hereby thank all of you for your input, especially for any interesting ideas and suggestions of what you would like to see in the upcoming chapters. Even though I might not be able to work everything in, **your advice is greatly appreciated**!!!

Although I already have plans of whom to pair off with whom, I would be greatly interested in your opinion. **What couples would you like to see?** Maybe you can still make me change my mind about some of my other pairings, or, even better, you like the same that I do...

And while we are at it, **how would you want me to handle the review responses? **Suggestions are permanent extra chapter, one extra chapter every ten chapters, or at the end of each chapter as I did so far. Or do you want me to pick out the issues that occur most often, and write a collective answer to them like I did in this chapter? Just tell me, and I will see to it.

  
  


Oh, and for those who asked for a picture of Aenëus, I finally found a website with the paintings of Michael Whelan I had in mind when I described the little dragon. The address is **http:// www. draconic. com / gallery / whelan. asp** , without the spaces of course. Aenëus resembles most closely the dragon in the picture **Dragon Lake**. (_A measured version of which I tried to send to_ **Amarantha Liriel, **_but I always got it back with a note that her mailbox was full. Do you have another address I can send it to?) _The size relation between dragon and human in this pic is approximately what Harry and Severus will have in the second stage of their relationship, and the pictures **Stronghold** and **Skybowl** reflect Harry's later size.

  
  


Well, I guess that is enough for now.

I fear I won't have the next chapter ready until after the 15th , because I have an exam in surgery, but I made this one longer to help you over the wait.

  
  


  
  


As always, I am really looking forward to learn how you liked the new chapter.

  
  


Greetings,

Scheckie

  
  


  
  



	9. Crucial Conversations

  
  


Dragons of Twilight

  
  


  
  


Chapter 09: Crucial Conversations

  
  


"Lupin!"

The werewolf turns to the voice calling him from the fireplace and his expression darkens imperceptibly upon seeing the Potions Master's face floating in the flames.

"Severus," he greets with an emotionless voice, nevertheless adding politely: "What can I do for you?"

The Slytherin scowls, once again wondering why of all people this usually gentle, mild man has to bear the burden of lycanthropy that stands in such a stark contrast to his human demeanour.

"I need a word with you. Would you come down for a cup of tea when you have finished unpacking?"

Pale brown eyebrows rise over amber eyes that seem to say _'Severus Snape asks me politely to drink tea with him? What has this world come to?'_, but all Remus says is: "I have already finished, I didn't exactly have much to unpack. Do you want me to come over now?"

"The sooner, the better," Severus snarls. "Floo directly to my chambers."

And without waiting for a reply, he vanishes from the flames.

  
  


A minute later, Remus Lupin stumbles out of the large fireplace in the dungeons, catching himself gracefully after a few steps. Severus merely raises an eyebrow at him while he brushes the soot off his shabby robes, and a memory from four years ago flashes through his mind: Lupin's first day as a professor in Hogwarts, and his visit to the Potions Master to discuss the brewing of the Wolfsbane Potion for him. 

It is almost scary how much the man before him has changed in the meantime. Gone is the tired, but indelible optimism, the calm strength, the kind patience, replaced by cold fatalism, suppressed ferocity, and silent danger. The werewolf holds himself with the bearing of a predator, and the amber eyes that have always been so warm and understanding are devoid of emotion, and in their depths he can see the wolf lingering, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Severus shudders inwardly and forcefully pushes away older, unwelcome memories of flashing yellow eyes, sharp claws and bared fangs. He can see that Remus is slowly losing his fight, and if they can't help him, the wolf in him will take over his mind before long and he will be lost even more certain than his Animagus friend is.

_'Shall this be how the Marauders end? One dead, one gone, one lost to the darkness and another one slowly loosing his fight, dying a bit day by day. Considering what they have done to me, it should give me a certain satisfaction to watch their fate, but somehow, it does not. It only makes me sad. Dear Salazar, I think I am going soft after all. How disgusting. It's a good thing that Albus allowed me to tell Lupin about Harry, hopefully he will agree to look after the little brat for some hours per day and give me a little peace.'_

  
  


"You wanted to see me?" Remus interrupts his thoughts in the same civil, neutral tone in which he has spoken before.

"Indeed, I did. Have a seat. Creme and one sugar, if I recall correctly?"

Remus sits down on one of the sofas and gazes into the fire.

"You do, but I take neither these days. I seem to have lost my taste for sweetness somehow."

  
  


Severus raises an eyebrow at that, but just pours two cups of black tea and doesn't comment further.

  
  


"Thank you," the werewolf says politely as the Slytherin hands him one of the cups. 

"You are welcome," Severus replies automatically. Despite of what people tend to think of him, his mother had taught him quite decent manners, thank you very much.

"Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Remus asks indifferently.

  
  


The Potions Master leans back in his seat and sneers, regarding the other man closely.

  
  


"Always so blunt. You Gryffindors just have no subtlety."

The werewolf shrugs. "I just thought you are a busy man and would like to waste as little of your precious time on me as possible."

  
  


Severus' mouth curls. 

  
  


"Touché," he retorts and takes a sip of his tea while he cringes inwardly. This is prone to get unpleasant. Casting a concealed glance to the little dragon that is crouching tensely around the corner and watching them with wide, emerald eyes, he just hopes they would be able to keep their temper in check.

"So you succeeded in coming back for another year," the Slytherin begins casually. "I take it that you want me to continue brewing the Wolfsbane Potion and taking over your classes around the full moon for you?"

"Since I prefer your potion to bought ones I'd appreciate it if you could do me the favour, however as Tonks and I are going to divide the Defence classes between us, there'll be no need for you to substitute."

The dark-haired wizard frowns slightly. "And why, pray tell, would Auror Tonks do that? If last term was any indication, you appeared to manage quite well on your own."

Remus shrugs non-committally. "It seemed convenient, seeing as we are on an assignment together."

"Assignment?" Severus scowls. "During term?"

"That's why there'll be two of us." Still the same, flat voice.

"I fail to imagine what possibly could be so important that such unusual arrangements needed to be made," the Potions Master sneers.

"Fudge doesn't want the convicted Death Eaters up and around, especially Malfoy and the Lestranges. Kingsley hinted that it might have something to do with some hidden skeletons of his, and the general fragile reputation of the Ministry at the moment. I volunteered to go after dear Bellatrix, but Albus turned me down and assigned me to go after Malfoy instead with Tonks as a partner."

  
  


These words, so calmly spoken, suffice to shake Severus more deeply than any passionate display of Gryffindorish thirst for revenge, and succeed in making him throw his usual Slytherin subtlety to the winds for the moment.

  
  


"You did what?!" he exclaims.

The werewolf shrugs again. "It's not as if it's a big deal. The right timing and one good night of full moon would have gotten us rid of the mad-woman. Albus should have accepted my offer. Now I'm stuck here with an Auror who manages to fall over her own feet if she doesn't find anything else to stumble over, and have the order to catch Lucius Malfoy alive and unharmed."

"You foolish Gryffindor! Albus most probably saved your sorry fur by not allowing you to take off on that suicide mission! What were you thinking?" the Slytherin bellows.

  
  


Amber eyes start to glitter very faintly while Remus' expression darkens to a slight scowl.

  
  


"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Oh," Severus says in a dangerously low voice, "but I think it is. Because I believe you were not thinking at all. You were just running away."

  
  


The glittering becomes more pronounced, but otherwise the werewolf shows no reaction to his baiting.

  
  


"It seems I didn't make myself clear enough, so I'll repeat it for you. What I do or don't do, as well as what I'm thinking is _none of your business_. I don't know whether Albus ordered you to pry into my private life or if this is just another of your petty Slytherin schemes, but I can assure you that your sudden interest in my welfare is neither appreciated nor welcome, and I suggest you kindly keep your hair-brained assumptions about possible motivations of mine to yourself."

"Stop being an idiot!" the Potions Master snaps. "We both know that despite Albus' being an old meddler, he respects other people's free will too much to do such a thing." _'And he is certainly skilled enough at manipulating others that he has no need to be so obvious.'_ "And if you want me to apologize for getting you sacked three years ago, fine, I am sorry." _'Astonishingly enough, I really might be. Damn that Potter boy...'_ "But you cannot expect me to lean back and watch while you try your best to go out there and get yourself killed."

Remus snorts. "It surely didn't bother you before. Why this sudden change of mind?"

"Things change. I have watched your suicidal actions long enough, waiting for your so-called friends to intervene. Since they seem to be even more incapable of doing so than they are in dealing with their own lives, it is time someone competent takes matters into hands."

  
  


The werewolf laughs harshly, humourlessly.

  
  


"And that would be you? Forgive me for questioning your noble intentions, but I didn't know you offer a counselling service in your spare time."

Severus scowls. "You would be surprised. The majority of my Slytherins do not exactly have a happy home life."

Again, the other shrugs. "As fascinating as this might be, I have work to do, so unless there is anything _important_ you wanted to talk about, I guess I'll better take my leave."

"Running away again?" the Slytherin taunts acidly.

Remus rolls his eyes. "What's this, Death Eater Anonymous? Got an assignment to assist a poor fellow in sorting out his life and getting happy again in order to make up for the horrible deeds you committed in your past, did you? Well, then go and pester someone else. I neither want nor need your _'help'_."

"No, you prefer to go out and hunt your own death."

Another snort. "My, aren't we melodramatic today."

"Bloody hell, Remus, stop being such a prick!"

"I don't see why I should. After all, you have no monopoly of this particular behaviour and I'm rather sure you'd tell me much worse if I tried to stick my nose into your affairs."

_'Damn, he is right! Well, one thing is certain, he surely was much easier to handle while he was still the shy, tame Gryffindor werewolf!'_

  
  


"That," he replies loftily, "is beside the point. This is about you, not me."

Pale brown eyebrows rise again. "And why should my situation be any different from yours? Voldemort's prone to know that you're a traitor by now, and every time you answer his Summons, you challenge death at his order. So you're not one to speak at all."

"That's different! The risks I take are for good reasons. The information I gather by spying on the Dark Lord..."

"...Is hardly enough to speak of, especially since Voldemort changed his tactics and keeps you on a need-to-know basis, we both know that," Remus counters. "Whereas I have completed several important missions successfully this summer."

"And landed yourself in the Hospital Wing every single time!"

"As if you didn't. So where's your big difference now? I'm still waiting."

"For someone with your number of NEWTs, you can be surprisingly thick. You have people who care about you, you stupid git!" Severus snarls.

The werewolf stares at him for a second, before he laughs again, a dark, hollow laugh.

"And who should that be? The people from the Order, who are still uneasy every time I sleep at the Headquarters? My students, who either loathe me, fear me or pity me? My colleagues, who have to live with my presence because I was once more the only applicant for the DADA job besides you? Albus, for whom I'm merely a convenient tool? You, who has hated me for more than twenty years for a crime I would never have given my consent to?"

"What about Potter?"

  
  


Remus narrows his eyes, and a yellow gleam appears in their depths. 

  
  


"Leave Harry out of this, Severus" he growls, before rising from his seat and turns to the entrance, looking back on the Slytherin over his shoulder. "I really think I should go now. You're starting to annoy me, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

  
  


Severus rises, too, and glares at him coldly.

  
  


"So you are going to leave him again, to let him down like that ruddy Godfather of his. Loath as I am to admit, I thought better of you."

"How dare you...!"

"He will need you, Remus. Now more than ever."

"Just. Shut. Up!" the werewolf presses through clenched teeth, the yellow gleam in his eyes getting brighter.

"No, I don't think I will. It is time you face the truth, however unpleasant it might be," the Potions Master replies firmly, trying to keep a tight grip on the fear that stirs deep in his chest.

"The truth?! You know nothing of the truth!" Remus growls with barely concealed anger.

Severus cocks a brow challengingly. "Indeed? Why don't you tell me then?"

"_You miserable bastard_!" the Gryffindor snarls viciously. "You want the truth? Fine! Nobody cares about me because _**I don't bloody want them to care**!!!_ And do you want to know why? Because everyone who cares for me gets hurt sooner or later! My parents, my brother, you, Lily, James, Peter, Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Harry... _I have enough!!!_ I can't bear it any more! Better alone than the cause of another's pain!"

  
  


The angry words strike the Potions Master straight into his heart. A memory flashes through his mind of another room, a circular one, and himself hurling similar words at the old, silver-haired wizard seated there behind his desk, looking at him serenely over his half-moon spectacles.

  
  


Dazed, he says: "But the Potters, Pettigrew, Black, me, the children, that wasn't your fault!"

"You don't get it," the other growls hoarsely, shaking his head, before he barks hatefully: "_I failed them!!!_ Every single one of them! I've known Sirius better than myself, I should have expected him to do something stupid, I should have seen the signs! But I didn't, and now he is gone! I knew that the children were up to something, they kept asking me strange questions, and one night I caught their scent on an old book in the library about the Afterlife and the Veil! I should have called them to account, I should have told someone, but again, I didn't. And now they are gone!"

"Harry isn't."

"YOU FUCKING LEAVE HARRY OUT OF THIS!" Remus roars, eyes flashing yellow, teeth bared, taking a menacing step towards the Slytherin.

  
  


Panic surges through the Potions Master, freezing him in place, unable to even draw his wand and defend himself against the enraged werewolf.

  
  


_Teeth. Claws. Burning yellow eyes. A threatening roar. A boy, alone against a monster. Alone, alone, always alone..._

  
  


*NO!*

_Protectiveness. Devotion. Worry. Outrage._

  
  


A fiery blur rushes out from behind the corner and poses itself between the two wizards.

  
  


Wings half-spread, crest erect to make him seem larger, the little copper and golden dragon stands protectively in front of his wizard and hisses at the werewolf, emerald eyes flashing defiantly, though Severus can see his slight trembling.

Remus pauses, uncertain what this means, and instinctively sniffs the air, trying to smell his opponent.

Amber eyes go round and the yellow fire in them dies instantly, while his stance loses every trace of the predator, leaving only a confused man in it's wake.

  
  


"Harry?" he breathes. "What...? How...?"

Aenëus lowers his wings hesitantly and tilts his head to one side questioningly.

"Harry."

  
  


The single word carries so much pain, so much longing, that the dragon takes a cautious step towards the other wizard, sniffing the air tentatively.

Remus sinks down on one knee, reaching out his hand slowly, disbelief still painted on his face.

Aenëus starts to tremble in earnest when he catches the werewolf's scent, and lets out a desperate, anguished wail that finally shakes the Potions Master out of his stupor. He knees down as the dragon flees into his arms, shaking and moaning in distress.

  
  


_Emotional pain. Confusion! Longing. Fear!!_

"Hush, it's alright. That's Remus. You remember him, don't you?"

_Confirmation. Affection? Guilt?_

"Go to him, little one. He won't hurt you."

_Devotion. Concern? Affection! Fear._

"I am alright. He did not seriously mean it that way. Go on."

_Uncertainty. Trust._

  
  


Hesitantly, the dragon leaves his wizard's arms and slowly, cautiously approaches the Gryffindor, who is still watching him with a dazed expression. His movements are reminiscent of the way he acted at his first meal in the Hospital Wing, his tense body ready to bolt at the slightest threat. The werewolf, sensing his anxiousness, remains silent and motionless. Finally, Aenëus reaches the outstretched hand and carefully sniffs at it, before shyly butting his head against the fingers. Remus obediently starts to pet the trembling dragon, gently, tenderly, and with a choked whine that sounds like a sob, Aenëus rushes into his arms, shaking, moaning, whining, and presses his lithe body into the strong one of the wizard, who cradles him affectionately, murmuring soft nonsense.

  
  


The picture gives Severus a stab in his heart, but he pushes the feeling aside forcefully. 

_'Why should I be jealous of Potter's relationship with his surrogate Godfather? Ridiculous! It's what I asked for all the time, isn't it? Someone besides me to look after the little brat.'_

Aenëus looks back to him at that moment, and green eyes meet black.

_Deep affection! Devotion. Worry. Guilt?_

_'GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD!'_

  
  


The dragon flinches violently in Remus' arms, and gives a yelp of pain. The werewolf jumps, and starts to withdraw.

  
  


"Don't," the Slytherin snaps, before he heaves a defeated sigh. "That was my fault."

The other wizard nods wordlessly, resuming the embrace, and Aenëus buries his head into the shabby robes.

  
  


"I apologize for my harsh reaction, but I told you to be more sensible with that ability of yours," Severus says calmly to his dragon.

_Remorse! Confusion? Helplessness. Uncertainty. Affection! Fear of rejection!_

The Potions Master sighs in annoyance, moves over to where the dragon is still entangled in the werewolf's arms, and leans down.

Aenëus winces when he touches him, but relaxes almost immediately as his wizard strokes the smooth, golden crest.

  
  


"Silly brat," Severus mutters crankily while his dragon scrambles from Remus' embrace into his.

The werewolf finally looks up at this, and he can see unshed tears in the amber eyes.

"It's really him, isn't it?" Remus asks softly.

"Yes, it is. This is what I wanted to tell you all along. Will you come and sit down and listen to what I have to say now?"

"I will."

  
  


And together, they go back to the seating area in front of the fireplace and sit down on the large sofa, the dragon sprawled possessively over their laps. Severus tells Remus what happened, starting with his being called to the Department of Mysteries, describing Aenëus' behaviour in the Infirmary and Poppy's findings, outlining the legends, and ending with his task of helping Harry remember. He mentions his mental connection with Aenëus only briefly, and says nothing about the growing affection between the two of them, leaning back when he is finished and looking expectantly at the other wizard instead.

  
  


"I failed him, Severus," Remus whispers miserably, gently scratching the dragon's copper and bronze neck.

"I regret having to dampen the exclusiveness of your self-accusation, but it seems none of us were able to take the situation at his home serious enough to take any further measures in order to ensure his safety. Even Albus did not expect that we might have to keep the boy safe from his own relatives."

The other shakes his head sadly.

"He rarely spoke of his life at his relatives' after ...the Department of Mysteries in his fifth year, but when he did, he always implied that his uncle had a foul temper and tended to physical violence. I should have understood what he wanted to tell me."

"After conferring with Albus, Minerva and Poppy, we assume that it was the first time this summer that an abuse to such an extend occurred, thus you had no way of knowing," the Slytherin argues.

"No," Remus replies bitterly, "I was away when he came to the Headquarters, out on an assignment."

"Bloody Hell, Lupin, get a grip on yourself!" Severus snaps, and the dragon on his lap flinches. Putting a soothing hand between the large wings, he continues calmer: "You are not the only one who made mistakes. I saw how he was treated at home in his memories when I taught him Occlumency, but I was too blinded by my hate for his father and the image I subconsciously created of the boy to recognize the signs and tell Albus."

_'I should have seen it coming. I, before all others, should have know. Too late now, too late.'_

_Comfort! Warmth. Gratefulness. Forgiveness. Affection._

  
  


The Potions Master raises his head and looks his colleague square in the eye.

"What is done, is done, and we cannot change it. Now the only thing we can do is make it up to him. I have already started to do so. Are you willing to help me?"

"Yes, of course! Harry... Harry is all the family I've left since..." he swallows, and ends in a coarse voice: "... since Sirius fell through the Veil."

_Compassion! Regret. Guilt?_

A sudden insight makes Severus say without thinking: "You loved him."

"Yes," Remus chokes on the word, and when he repeats it, it comes out as a sob: "Yes."

  
  


Aenëus chirps worriedly, and curls himself into the werewolf's arms as his friend finally allows the tears that had been churning in him for over one year to fall freely. The little dragon proceeds to make soothing sounds as Remus cries for the love he lost, while the Potions Master decides to grant them a little privacy and retreats into the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of tea. The room is silent when he returns, werewolf and dragon are sitting side by side on the cosy sofa, and Remus' face is wearing a ghost of his old smile. Joining the other two, the Slytherin's onyx eyes meet amber ones, and it seems as if the tears succeeded in washing away the bitterness and the anger that had plagued the Gryffindor for so long, leaving the old Remus behind, tired, exhausted, but more himself than in a long time.

Aenëus snuggles into his wizard's side, and Remus' eyes brighten a bit at the sight of the Slytherin and his dragon.

  
  


"He's really amazing. Even after all he went through, he still wants to love, still wants to trust. Even though I pushed him away when he tried to comfort me last summer, he still comes back. I must have done at least something right in my life if I deserved his friendship."

_'Perhaps we don't deserve him at all.'_

_Modesty. Love. Affection. Happiness._

"A typical Gryffindor," Severus summarizes.

  
  


The other man's smile grows fond. 

  
  


"That he is, my friend, that he is. Now what can I do to help you?"

"Well, the most pressing problem is the start of term. The staff has been told that the dragon is the result of some research in conjuring I am doing for Albus, while the Dark Lord believes I'm working on it at his order, but we cannot possibly tell the students. Aenëus is still far too fragile to deal with the whole school, and I have no misconceptions about the little dunderheads' ability, or rather lack thereof, to take his shyness and self-consciousness into consideration. So I am still looking for a way to hide him from the students, since most potions last only a short while and I do not know how they would affect a dragon's metabolism anyway."

"Aenëus: a Latin expression for brazen, copper and bronze. A fitting name for his colouring," Remus muses kindly. "Have you already thought about a Disillusionment Charm to conceal him?"

"Only briefly. Skilled wizards can see through it and make out the contours of the Disillusioned body despite the charm, and we can consider all of the higher-ranking Death Eaters skilled enough. In addition, the Dark Lord checks our wands from time to time, and I would have to explain what I used the charm for." He pauses. "And lastly, I am not very good at it, as I always took potions or other measures when I was in need of concealment."

"We don't try to hide him from the Death Eater, just from a bunch of noisy teenagers," the Gryffindor argues calmly, "and I doubt that any of them except Hermione could see through the charm. As to your other objections, well, I could do the charm. I had a lot of practice during the last year."

_'Damn, why didn't I think of that?'_

"I believe you found the solution to our problem. Good work, Lupin!"

  
  


Remus grins mildly. 

  
  


"Did Severus Snape just pay me compliment? My, what has this world come to?!" he jokes.

Severus grimaces. "I blame it on an overdose of Gryffindorishness. I have been stuck with our local celebrity for more than four weeks now."

_'And I wouldn't even under Cruciatus admit that it isn't nearly as unbearable as I pretend it to be...'_

_Amusement! Fondness. Devotion. Happiness._

_'Get. Out.'_

  
  


The other wizard laughs good-naturedly, a sound Severus hasn't heard from him since Black's demise and the dark Slytherin's heart lightens with relief.

  
  


"Gryffindorishness? I didn't know a word like that even exists."

The Potions Master huffs. "It does now."

"If you say so, my friend."

Severus stills. "Do you really think of me as that?"

  
  


Remus glances up from the dragon, faint surprise in his amber eyes, and something else.

  
  


"Yes. Yes, I do. You've always been special to me. I deeply regret that I didn't stand up for you to my friends, and accepted your hatred as a justified punishment. But I never gave up the hope that maybe, just maybe, we could leave all that behind us some day."

  
  


He smiles mildly, his original, warm smile.

  
  


"You know, it was right what I said earlier, even if it was said in anger. You and I are very similar in many ways. No easy childhood, trouble with the Death Eaters, friends lost to Voldemort, both outcasts by the Wizarding World, ...I could go on and on with the list. The causes of our hardship may be different, but the impact on our life is just the same. You gave me quite a bit to think about by what you said to me this afternoon. But will you promise me to think about it yourself as well?"

  
  


The Potions Master looks at the other man for a long while, their gazes locked firmly, before he softly says: "I think I will."

Remus' smile grows a little brighter at his words.

"Very well. Now I believe we still have some plans to make concerning a certain ...celebrity?"

The Slytherin shrugs with false indifference. 

"Someone has to save the saviour of the Wizarding World from himself. Seeing as I have been at it for six years now, I can as well go on."

"Mind if I join you?" the werewolf asks jokingly.

Severus smirks. "Not at all, my friend, not at all."

  
  


_Joy. Happiness. Satisfaction. Relief. Affection._

  
  


And snuggled between the two wizards, the small dragon starts to purr.

  
  


  
  


(°)+(°)+(°)+(°)+(°)+(°)+(°)

A/N:

  
  


SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY AND THE SHORTNESS!!!

  
  


Of course I have several good reasons for it, e.g. my exam (which I passed, by the way! *YAY* **Many thanks to all who wished me luck, I owe you!**), birthdays (I got myself a new pen name to mine *smiles*) , university, family affairs, Christmas preparations, writer's block, and now my kitten is ill, I really hope she gets better soon. This last weekend, I truly feared she would die on me. Fortunately, she seems to feel a bit better now. But enough rambling.

  
  


**THANKS FOR THE MANY NICE REVIEWS!!!**

I can't say it often enough, it is your feedback that keeps me going!

  
  


I finished my list of **pairings** to be, and you indeed succeeded in making me rearrange the whole thing, except the two main couples, of course, and even add a third very important pair. Let's just say that Sirius is going to play a **really** crucial part later on, as will Neville, and to a lesser degree Draco and Lucius. **Suggestions are still welcome, though.** *sighs* I sooo love matchmaking...

Part of the reason why it took me so long to write this is that I am very apprehensive about all the teenager talk later. I just hope it will sound halfway realistic the way I'm going to write it. Any OOCness is hereby blamed on the year that has passed since OotP, with all the events that took place in the meantime and the characters' general growing up and maturing. As I already told you in chapter 1, I only skipped through the fifth book and didn't really like what I read, so I'm going to stick to the main characters, and unless I make any grave mistakes (which I hope you would point out to me) spare myself the effort of rereading it. And yes, I know that Remus seems very OOC at the beginning, but in this story, he and Sirius were together before he went through the Veil, and I think the loss of his lover together with being the last of the Marauders and the general tense situation could well lead to a behaviour as I depicted it. However, the two will **not** get back together when Sirius returns! I have someone else in mind for each of them... *grins* I only say: Rare Pairings!

**I'll try to write as much as I can during the holidays and put up the next chapter as soon as possible, but I REALLY do need to work on my thesis and it might be a while before I manage to update.**

To pass the time, you can look for the **prequel** to this I started in order to overcome my writer's block, it's called **Dragons of Twilight : First Millennium** and tells the story of Dawn-Dragon Salazar Slytherin and his wizard Godric Gryffindor, the Founding of Hogwarts, and the events that led to the break up of the four friends. So if you want to learn more about the Dragons of Twilight, have some of the romance that I can't put in here yet and see my first attempt at a passionate scene, go on to my bio, click on the link and Read&Review _First Millennium_!

  
  


In chapter 10 school finally starts, some people see something they aren't supposed to and Severus gets into trouble... again.

  
  


Until then

**A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!!!**

  
  


I hope this chapter was acceptable.

  
  


Carpe Diem,

Luceo*Non*Uro

  
  


  
  



End file.
